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THE    EPIC    OF 
PARADISE     LOST^ 

TWELVE  ESSAYS 


BY 
MARIANNA  WOODHULL 


VER??ITy 

G.  P.  PUTNAM'S  SONS 

NEW  YORK  &  LONDON 

dbe  ftnicf^erbocket  press 

1907 


,y 


WeFFITT 


Copyright,  1907 

BY 

MA RI ANNA  WOODHULL 


Ube  IknicfcerDoclier  pvtes,  t\cw  ]t?orft 


PREFACE 

THE  twelve  essays  that  comprise  this  vol- 
ume, The  Epic  of  Paradise  Lost,  stand 
in  close  unity  about  the  central  idea  that  the 
epic  form  is  indispensable  for  the  literary  treat- 
ment of  the  story  of  the  origin  of  evil  in  Eden. 
In  this  emphasis  upon  the  epic  idea,  the  work 
differs  from  other  studies  of  Adam's  fall,  and 
the  author  has  therefore  based  her  conclu- 
sions upon  original  research  only. 

The  subjects  discussed  in  these  essays  include 
the  fundamental  distinction  of  the  epic  theme ' 
from  the  tragic  theme  on  the  grounds  of  the 
scope,  the  method,  and  the  kind  of  character- 
isation demanded.  The  evolution  of  the  classic 
epic  into  the  Christian  epic  is  traced,  and  the 
trend  of  modern  thought  toward  purer  ab- 
stract ideas  in  spiritual  conceptions  is  noted, 
with  the  inevitable  reaction  of  these  notions 
upon  literary  art  in  the  epic. 

The   philosophical    basis    of    every    work    of 
art  is  declared  to  be  significant,  and  for  this 


1 ^700^ 


iv  Preface 

reason  Milton's  Treatise  on  Christum  Doctrine 


is   examined   in   detail,   and   its   connection   with 

.    Paradise    Lost     is     traced.       The    position    is 

\  .taken    that    the    battle   waged   by    evil    against 

I  good  in  Eden  requires  for  its  forcible  presenta- 

1  tion,  on  the  one  hand,  the  cause  of  its  origin  JiJ 

I  the  battle  in  heaven,  and  on  the  other,  its  issue 

jij^the  scheme  of  salvation.     No  portion  of  this 

story   can   be  presented   adequately   alone,   and 

therefore    the    story    requires    the    epic    form. 

The  reasonableness  of  this   conclusion  may  be 

tested  by  tracing  the  reasons  for  the  failure  of 

attempts  to  separate  the  parts   of  this   story, 

or  to  treat  it  as  a  tragedy. 

In  this  connection,  Milton's  four  discarded 
drafts  for  a  tragedy  upon  Adam's  loss  of  Par- 
adise are  peculiarly  significant.  Thg^  reasons 
j  for  his  changes  and  their  trend  from  one  (Jr-aft 
to  another  reveal  the  difficulties  that  Milton 
met  and  what  considerations  led  him  to  his  de- 
cision, given  later  in  the  ninth  book  of  Para- 
Lost,  that  the  theme  was  epic  not  tragic, 


although  fraught  with  tragic  import. 

For  the  sub  j  ect  of  the  essays  that  follow,  there 
have  been  chosen  four  typical  and  widely  dif- 
fering tragedies  from  the  hands  of  other  au- 
thors upon  Adam's  fall  and  Lucifer's  rebellion, 


Preface  v 

and  an  examination  is  made  of  their  grounds 
for  failure  as  works  of  literary  art.  They  fail 
first  of  all  through  an  attempt  to  throw  into 
a  tragedy,  a  story  demanding  the  scope,  the 
method,  and  the  characterisation  of  an  epic. 
The  success  of  Paradise  Lost  lies  fundament-  '^ 
ally  in  those  very  points  wherein  the  tragedies 
have  failed;  that  is  in  the  scope,  the  method, 
and  the  characterisation  demanded  by  the 
theme,  and  it  is  noted  that  the  results  could  not 
be  attained  without  the  epic  form.  No  pains 
have  been  spared  to  make  these  reviews  of  the 
tragedies  accurate  and  thorough,  and  for  this 
reason  they  have  been  cast  into  the  form  of 
studies    strictly. 

The  last  essay  of  the  volume  gives  in  a  brief 
form  conclusions  based  upon  two  lines  of  re- 
search that  converge  to  one  central  idea  of  the 
epic ;  the  one  is  a  comparative  study  of  Milton's 
conception  of  nature  with  the  utterances  of 
typical  poets  and  philosophers  through  the 
ages;  the  other  is  an  examination  of  the 
grounds  of  Milton's  influence  in  France  and 
Germany  in  the  romantic  revival. 

The  fact  is  noted  that  there  have  been  at 
moments  in  different  stages  of  the  world's 
thought,  as  there  are  to-day,  two  fundament- 


vi  Preface 

ally  diiferent  conceptions  of  nature;  the  one, 
emphasising  the  definite;  the  other,  the  infinite. 
To-day,  in  philosophy,  these  two  phases  are 
represented  on  the  one  hand  by  Professor  Can- 
tor and  on  the  other  by  Professor  Arrhenius. 
Milton  is  fundamentally  in  harmony  with  Pro- 
fessor Arrhenius  in  his  conception  of  nature 
as  infinite  and  an  expression  of  God's  infinite 
thought,  never  therefore  to  be  completely  com- 
prehended by  man.  From  the  lifting  up  of  his 
heart  toward  the  mysterious  majesty  of  nature 
arises  Milton's  potent  influence  in  France  and 
Germany  in  the  eighteenth  century.  Milton's 
conception  of  nature  has  an  epical  cast,  but  it 
inspired  the  lyric  not  only  abroad  but  at  home. 
It  is  here  that  we  find  the  secret  of  his  all-per- 
vading power  over  English  lyrists  since  his 
day. 

The  introductory  essay  of  the  volume  dis- 
cusses at  greater  length  the  evolution  of  the 
twelve   essays   and   their   purpose. 

The  author  has  gained  assistance  from 
scientists,  linguists,  and  critics  upon  details 
essential  for  the  accuracy  of  this  work.  As 
not  one  could  know  the  relation  of  his  aid  to 
the  perfected  fabric  of  the  thought,  it  seems 
to  the  author  fitting  to  make  these  scholars  in 


Preface  vii 

no  way  responsible  for  the  results,  but  it  is 
hardly  possible  to  omit  this  passing  word  of 
gratitude  to   them. 

Thanks  are  also  due  to  the  librarians  who 
have,  by  their  kind  assistance,  made  possible 
the  study  of  rare  and,  without  their  aid,  inac- 
cessible books. 

M.  W. 

New  York,  1907. 


CONTENTS 

PAGE 

Introductory— Why  Milton  Wrote  an  Epic     .       1 

^  I.— What  IS  AN  Epic? 12    K' 

Distinction  of  the  Epic  and  the  Tragedy 

a.  Scope  and  Background 

b.  Method 

c.  Characterisation 

/II.— The  Christian  Epic 52 

1.  Divine  Machinery 

2.  Sad  Endings 

3.  Presentation  of  Abstract  in  Art 

4.  Future  of  the  Epic 


^  III.—"  Treatise  on  Christian  Doctrine  "  .        .83 

1.  Philosophical  Basis  of  Art 

2.  Comparison  with  Paradise  Lost 

a.  Scheme  of  Universe 

b.  Problem  of  Evi] 

c.  Man's  Freewill 

d.  Plan  of  Salvation  ^ 

e.  Defeat  of  Satan  ^^ 

f .  Quest  of  Paradise 


1^ 


t  Contents 

PAGB 

rv.— Milton's  Drafts  for  a   Tragedy   upon 

Paradise  Lost 108 

1.  Grounds  for  Dissatisfaction 

2.  Growth  toward  Epic  Conception 

3.  Need  of  Epic  Scope,  Method,  and  Charac- 

terisation 


v.— Other  Versions  of  Man's  Fall      .       .    127 
Evolution  into  Art  Form 

a.  In  Bible  and  Eastern  Literature 

b.  In  Works  of  Church  Fathers 

c.  Some  Artistic  Versions  in  Epical  Narra- 
tive :  Prudentius,  Avitus;  Caedmon 

d.  In  Didactic  Treatises  :  Tasso,  II  Mondo 
Creato ;  Du  Bartas,  La  Sepmaine 

e.  In  Works  on  other  Themes :  Vida, 
Christias;  Sannazaro,  De  Partu  Vir- 
ginis 

VI.—- Man's  Fall  in  Tragedy;  "  Adamus  Exsul," 

Grotius 144 

1.  Strength  of  W©rk  in  Plan  and  Concrete- 

ness 

2.  Defect  in  Lack  of  Verisimilitude 


3.  Unsuitableness  of  Form 


VII.— Man's   Fall    in    Tragedy;     *'Adam    in 

Ballingschap,"  Vondel       .        .        .165 


Contents  xi 


PAGE 


VIII.— Man's   Fall  in    Tragedy;     "KAdamjo," 

Andreini         .        .        .        ,        .        .188 

IX.— Lucifer's  Fall  in  Tragedy;  "Lucifer," 

VONDEL 211 

X.— Some  Epic  Scenes         .        .        .       .        .235    ^'^ 
In  Jerusalem  Delivered,  Tasso 
In  Sospetto  cT  Her  ode,  Marino 
In  Psyche,  Beaumont 
In  Davideis,  Cowley 
In  Apollyonists,  P.  Fletcher 
In  Loeustce,  P.  Fletcher 

In  Christ's  Victory  and  Triumph,  G.  Fletcher  ^ 
Stronger    Influence   from    Homer,    Virgil,  j„*«*ff^_ 
Statins,  Ariosto,  Spenser,  and  Arthurian        tP      " 
Cycle. 

XI. — Milton's    Achievement    in     **  Paradise 

Lost":  God,  Satan,  Adam  and  Eve    .'   250  l^ 

XII.— Epic  Source  OF  the  Lyrics  in  ''Paradise 

Lost" 300 

1.  Milton's  Influence  in  France   and   Ger- 
many 

2.  Milton's  Conception  of  Nature 

3.  The  Epical  Source  of  his  Lyrics 

4.  The  Reason  for  his  Influence  upon  Lyrists. 

Bibliography .       .351 

Index 369 


The  Epic  of  Paradise  Lost 

INTRODUCTORY 

WHY  MILTON  WROTE  AN  EPIC 

SO  far  as  my  observation  goes,  Milton's 
Paradise  Lost  has  suffered  from  a  super- 
ficial reading  rather  more  generally  than  any 
other  masterpiece  of  English  literature,  and  it 
seems  also  to  be  true  that  few  students  entertain 
any  very  intimate  personal  relation  with  Milton, 
such  a  relation  as  many  readers  enjoy  with 
Shelley  or  Browning  or  Wordsworth. 

An  examination  of  the  works  of  criticism  upon 
Milton  reveals  that  there  is  a  preponderance 
of  textual  criticism,  of  a  comparative  study  of 
words  and  of  phrases,  that  does  not  pass  into 
a  comparison  of  the  spirit  of  the  context;  and 
that  there  is  a  quantity  of  historical  criticism 
of  Milton,  with  a  view  to  biographical  accur- 
acy. There  can  be  no  question  that  this  body 
of  critical  work  is  not  only  valuable  but  abso- 


2       The  Epic  of  Paradise  Lost 

lutely  indispensable.  There  remains  however 
a  very  impcrcant  phase  of  criticism  of  Milton 
hitherto  occasionally  glanced  at^  but  otherwise 
neglected.     This    neglected    question    has    be- 

V  come  the  subject  of  this  book:  Why  did  Milton 

j  write  an  epic  upon  Adam's  loss  of  Paradise.? 
For  many  years  this  question  has  obstinately 
presented  itself  to  my  mind  and  it  has  impelled 
me  to  attempt  a  close  intensive  study  of  our 
greatest  English  epic  and  of  the  mind  of  the 
author. 

We  are  all  familiar  with  the  statement  that 
Milton  is  a  great  epic  poet,  the  greatest  in 
English  literature,  if  not  in  the  world's  litera- 
ture. Many  readers  have  accepted  for  their 
own  Dryden's  opinion,  "  this  man  cuts  us  all 
out  and  the  ancients  too,"  but  in  essays  upon 
Milton,  from  Addison's  to  the  latest  writers',  I 
have  looked  in  vain  for  a  solution  of  this  funda- 
mental problem,  a  problem  that  brings  a  series 
\    of  questions  in  its  train :     What  is  an  epic  type 

\  of  genius.?     What  is  an  epic  cast  of  thought.? 

I  What  is  an  epic?  and  why  did  Milton  write  an 
I  epic   upon   Adam   unparadised .?        Did   Milton 
write  an  epic  because  his  subject  demanded  the 
epic  form? 

When  I  have  heard  lectures  upon  Vondel  and 


Why  Milton  Wrote  an  Epic      3 

Milton,  and  when  I  have  read  the  literature  of 
the  Lauder  controversy,  this  question  has  re- 
turned with  persistent  force  to  my  mind, — how 
can  any  comparison  be  made  between  an  epic 
and  a  tragedy,  until  we  first  settle  the  funda- 
mental principles  of  the  epic?  All  lines  in 
Milton's  Paradise  Lost  radiate  from  the  e^iic 
notion  and  no  line  in  Vondel  strikes  out  firmly 
from  such  a  centre.  No  criticism  therefore  ap- 
pears to  be  vital  that  ignores  that  essential 
difference;  for  wherein  was  Vondel  prepared  to 
aid  Milton?  Not  every  man  who  valued  sleep 
was  responsible  for  those  lines  on  sleep  that 
knit  the  ravelled  sleeve  of  care;  nor  did  every 
man  who  retold  the  old  tale  of  man's  fall  have 
any  important  share  in  Paradise  Lost,  Did  the 
lark  borrow  his  song  from  the  worm  that  he 
seized  for  breakfast?  So  indeed  may  the  dust 
of  a  king  stop  the  bunghole  of  a  barrel,  but 
such  a  pursuit  of  the  borrowed  may  give  a 
student  a  wild  chase. 

It  is  not  that  kind  of  a  book  of  criticism,  nor 
a  compendium  of  useful  facts,  that  I  have  sought 
to  write,  but  a  book  of  critical  studies  of  Milton 
upon  the  subject.  Why  is  Adam's  fall  part  of 
an  epic  theme? 

The  question  at  first  sight  may  seem  need 


^ 


4       The  Epic  of  Paradise  Lost 

less.  Some  thoughtful  people  have  at  once  re- 
plied, "  Milton  wrote  an  epic  because  he  chose 
to  write  an  epic."  Like  Raphael's  advice  to 
the  inquisitive  Adam, 

heaven  is  for  thee  too  high 
To  know  what  passes  there  ;  be  lowly  wise  : 

this  reply  discourages  conversation,  but  it  does 
not  still  my  obstinate  questioning.  What  is 
more,  this  query,  I  am  assured  by  investigation, 
starts  the  inquirer  on  no  foolish  quest;  Milton 
had  hin^elf,  in  fact,  both  asked  my  question  and 
answered  it  before  he  wrote  Paradise  Lost,  His 
epic  did  not  spring  Athena-like  from  his  brain 
but  represented  the  careful,  deliberate  labour  of 
a  lifetime,  and  Milton  himself  at  first  believed 
that  his  theme  ought  to  be  developed  in  the 
form  of  a  tragedy.  Nowhere  in  the  criticism 
I  of  Milton  has  this  fact  received  its  adequate 
\  recognition,  still  there  is  no  question  more  vital 
than  this  for  the  student  of  Milton:  How  did 
the  epic  finally  shape  itself.'*  out  of  the  ruins  of 
these  discarded  drafts  for  a  tragedy  upon  the 
loss  of  Paradise? 

Of  this  process,  Milton  has  given  us  signifi- 
cant flashes  of  information,  and  if  we  follow 
these  gleams,  we  shall  learn  the  progress  of 
both  the  thought  and  of  the  form.     The  unmi§- 


i\ 


Why  Milton  Wrote  an  Epic      5 

takable  path  of  his  quest  leads  through  those 
plans  of  tragedy  on  man's  fall,  through  his 
prose  utterances  on  man's  relation  to  the  uni- 
verse, particularly  in  The  Treatise  on  Christian 
Doctrine,  through  his  probable  reflections  upon 
the  available  literature  of  man's  fall  and  the 
origin  of  evil,  to  his  own  distinct  statement  in 
the  first  fifty  lines  of  the  ninth  book  of  ParadiseV^ ^ 
Lost,  that  man's  fall  is  an  epic  theme.        f-  /  f 

Despite  all  this  proof  to  the  contrary,  the 
assertion  has  been  made  to  me  that  Milton 
wrote  an  epic  because  he  had  an  epic  type  of 
mind  and  when,  in  the  maturity  of  his  powers,  \ 
he  learned  his  own  strength,  he  gave  up  the  idea  ' 
of  writing  a  tragedy  and  cultivated  his  own 
peculiar  gift  in  an  epic.  Strong  as  this  con- 
tention may  seem,  it  is  not  a  satisfactory  an- 
swer to  my  question.  There  is  no  doubt  that  \ 
Milton  had  an  epic  type  of  mind,  if  by  that 
term  is  meant  the  power  to  write  an  epic,  but 
is  that  power  all  that  is  required  .f^  May  one  at 
will  decide  to  write  an  epic  or  a  tragedy  upon 
the  same  identical  theme?  Milton  shows  his 
genius  not  only  in  his  power  to  create  an  epic,, 
but  also  in  his  perception  that  the  story  of  th^ 
fall  of  man,  if  it  were  to  be  elevated  into  th« 
realm  of  literary  art,  must  have  for  its  adequate? 


6         The  Epic  of  Paradise  Lost 

expression  the  epic  form.  In  this,  I  believe 
that  his  genius  bowed  to  what  he  recognised  as 
an  inevitable  issue,  a  species  of  art  fate. 

It  is  then  the  purpose  of  this  book  to  set 
forth  the  progress  of  this  evolution  of  the  epic 
idea  in  man's  fall  into  Paradise  Lost  and  to  show 
the  relation  of  this  epic  to  the  whole  of  Milton's 
thought  in  his  prose  as  well  as  in  his  poetical 
utterances.  The  solution  of  such  a  problem 
as  the  one  before  us  lies  in  the  choice  of  the 
more,  rather  than  the  less,  reasonable  view  of 
his  own  utterances,  and  in  an  examination  of  the 
grounds  for  drawing  our  conclusions  upon  the 
necessity  of  the  epic  form  from  a  comparative 
study  of  other  versions  of  the  fall  of  man. 
Such  an  examination  of  proofs  leads  me  to  the 
opi«i]^;yM|U^  to  Milton's  capacity  to  perceive 
that  the  ep^^orm  was  necessary  for  his  theme 
was  added  th^»eater  gift  of  power  to  create  a 
work  under  the  ^Uance  of  his  inner  vision ;  and 
therein  lies  his  c^^^to  surpassing  greatness. 

There  are  five  p^HHLfcat  must  be  emphasised 
then,  in  this  book:  firs^Bte  correct  basis  fori 
comparative  study  of  MilS^;  second,  the  crM- 
cal  value  of  Milton's  attempts  to  plan  a  traeofty 
on  man's  fall ;  third,  the  critical  importanM  of 
Milton's  Treatise  on  Christian  Doctrine;  f(Jjrth, 


Why  Milton  Wrote  an  Epic     7 

the  ninth  book  of  Paradise  Lost,  an4  fifth,  the 
significance    of   the   lyrical   strain    in   Paradise 

JLost.  — "«..«.«^^ 

The  power  to  perceive  the  essential  art  form 
for  a  theme  and  the  skill  to  create  the  form  de- 
manded combine  to  mark  the  genius  of  a  high 
order  and  this  harmony  between  his  perception 
and  his  power  to  create  is  the  essential  fact 
about  Milton.  Joined  to  this  essential  fact 
are   two   important    considerations. 

First    the    Treatise    on    Christian    DoctrimA 
gives  in  prose  Milton's  trains  of  thought  aboufl 
God  and  the  universe  and  man's  relation  to  alll 
and  a  careful  study  of  this  work  taken  in  com-^ 
parison  with  Paradise  Lost  indicates  that  the 
epic  strikes  its  roots  deep  into  Milton's  philo4  \ 
sophy  of  life  and  is   no  less   than  an   artisticB' 
presentation  of  his  conception  of  life.     In  fact,'? 
this  study  makes  reasonable  the  assertion  that 
Milton    has    concentrated   his    whole   nature    in 
one  supreme  effort,  and  therefore  Paradise  Lost     1 
is  at  once  great  as  a  masterpiece  and  as  a  self- 
revelation  of  a  genius  of  a  high  order.  ^ 

Second,  if  this  be  true,  then  it  is  possible  for 
the  student  to  ravel  back  the  mystic  threads 
and  to  find  the  true  Milton  in  Paradise  Lost  and 


8         The  Epic  of  Paradise  Lost 

perhaps  there  only.     To  know  who  was  a  man's 
tutor  or  first  wife's  father  may  be  interesting, 
significant,  or  essential,  but  it  is  possible  that 
it  is  not  all  three  of  these  at  once.       It  may 
be  interesting   and  not  essential,   for  instance, 
if  the  fact  does  not  at  all  touch  the  central  idea 
of  a  man's  life.     It  may  even  be  true  that  a 
man  does  not  reveal  himself  in  the  ordinary  re- 
lations of  Hfe,  for  it  is  no  less   strange  than 
common  that,  for  some  reason,  these  relations 
fail   to   absorb   the  man   and   where   his   whole 
life    centres    only,    does    a    man    reveal   himself 
completely. 
\       There  are  reasons  for  the  belief  that  of  far 
more  importance  than  biographies,  however  long 
and  however  valuable,  is  the  record  of  a  man's 
inner   life   that   he   gives   unconsciously   in   his 
chosen  work.     For  this  reason,  there  is  pecu- 
l    liar  importance  in  the  lyric  strains  in  Paradise 
\   Lost,  and  the  nature  of  this  importance  will  be 
discussed  at  length  in   the   last   essay   of  this 
volume. 

If  the  literary  form  for  man's  fall  is  inevita- 
bly the  epic  and  Milton  had  the  genius  to  see 
the  inherent  form  in  the  theme,  this  fact  best 
marks  him  as  different  from  Vondel,  on  the 
one  hand,  who  failed  to  see  the  unsuitableness 


Why  Milton  Wrote  an  Epic     9 

of  the  form  of  tragedy;  and  from  Lancetta  on 
the  other  hand,  who  saw  the  need  but  could  not 
create  the  epic  of  the  dream.  ^    JThe  power  to   | 
perceive  and  the  power  to  create,  together  mark   I 
the  man  of  genius.  \  But  Milton  could  not  have    / 
perceived,  in   this   case,  the   harmony   between 
his  theme  and  its  form,  if  he  had  not  the  epic 
type     of     mind.     Fortunately,     Milton     could 
grasp  the  epic  background  in  his  poetical  con- 
ception just  as  unfortunately  Vondel  could  not 
attain   the  epic   scope. 

Shakespeare,  like  Milton,  could  reach  the  epic\ 
scope  and  MSll  WS  characlJers  upon  the  epic  ^ 
background,  but  his  attention  was  f  ocussed  upon 
the  more  concrete  experiences  of  men,  and  there- 
fore,   possibly    from    choice,    he    cultivated   the 
tragic  and  not  the  epic  muse.     However,  the  ^ 
indisputable  traces  of  the  epic  power   remain 
in  the  tendency  to  lift  his  tragedy  out  of  the 
normal  domain  of  tragedy  to  the  epic  height, 
where   the   characters   move   on   a  background  v^/ 
that    no    stage    can    bound    and    where    human 
life    loses    its    concreteness    in    life's    universal 
mystery. 

This,  however,  brings  us  to  the  thought  of 

*  See. volume  i.,  Todd's  4th  edition  of  MiltorCs  Poetical 
Works  for  quotation  from  preface  of  Lancetta. 


lo       The  Epic  of  Paradise  Lost 

the  first  essay,  which  busies  itself  with  the 
grounds  of  distinction  between  the  epic  and  the 
tragedy  and  the  territory  where  they  move 
as  aUied  not  aHen  monarchs.  We  shall  then 
be  ready  to  discuss  in  the  second  essay  the 
fundamental  characteristics  of  the  Christian 
epic  in  general,  and  of  Paradise  Lost  in  particu- 
lar, with  a  view  to  the  probable  destiny  of  the 
epic  form.  In  the  third  essay,  it  will  be  useful 
to  consider  the  roots  of  Milton's  epic  as  they 
appear  in  his  prose  utterances.  In  the  fourth 
essay  we  shall  examine  Milton's  four  early 
drafts  for  a  tragedy  upon  the  fall  of  man  and 
note  the  undeveloped  epic  idea  therein  ex- 
pressed. In  the  fifth  essay,  we  shall  observe 
typical  versions  of  man's  fall  in  earlier  litera- 
ture, note  the  evolution  of  the  theme  into  art 
form,  and  trace  the  epical  characteristics  in 
these  works. 

In  the  sixth,  seventh,  eighth,  and  ninth 
,  essays  we  shall  examine  four  tragedies  on  man's 
fall  that  were  known  in  the  seventeenth  century, 
and  note  the  defects  that  arise  from  their  au- 
thors' lack  of  clear  comprehension  of  the  epical 
demand  of  the  theme:  the  first  of  these  four 
studies  will  be  of  A  damns  Exsul  by  Grotius; 
the  second  will  be  of  Adam  in  Ballingschap  by 


Why  Milton  Wrote  an  Epic     1 1 

Vondel;  the  third,  of  VAdamo  by  Andreini;  the 
fourth,  of  Lucifer  by  Vondel. 

In  the  tenth  essay,  some  attention  will  be 
given  to  passages  that  were  epical  in  attempt 
in  the  literature  of  the  sixteenth  and  seven- 
teenth centuries  upon  the  same  theme  or 
allied  themes  to  that  of  Paradise  Lost,  and  the 
fact  will  be  noted  that  these  passages,  because 
they  had  the  epic  method  and  the  epic  eleva- 
tion, were  of  more  direct  aid  to  Milton  than 
were  the  attempts  at  a  tragedy  upon  the  origin 
of  evil. 

In  the  eleventh  essay,  we  then  shall  be  ready 
to  note,  in  brief,  Milton's  treatment  of  the  epic 
background  with  the  epic  method,  and  to  ex- 
amine his  skill  in  the  epical  characterisation  of 
God,  of  Satan,  of  Adam,  and  of  Eve,  character- 
isations that  had  fared  so  ill  at  the  hands  of 
the  workers  in  a  tragedy  upon  man's  fall. 

In  the  twelfth  essay,  we  shall  examine  the 
personal  touches  of  emotion  in  Paradise  Lost 
and  note  their  dependence  upon  the  epic  scope 
of  the  poem,  and  we  shall  point  out  Milton's 
position  among  the  lyric  poets  and  the  reason 
for  his  influence  to  be  foimd  in  his  epical  con- 
ception of  Eden. 


UNIVERbK 

OF 


WHAT  IS  AN  EPIC? 

THE  purpose  of  this  essay  and  of  the  next 
is  to  show  that  a  comparative  study  of 
the  great  epics  and  of  the  great  tragedies 
makes  reasonable  the  conclusion  that  the  ancient 
theme  of  Adam's  loss  of  Paradise  must  find  its 
inevitable  consummation  in  art  in  an  epic  and 
not  in  a  tragedy. 

Our  thought  upon  this  subject  must  follow 
after  Milton  and  eventually  strike  the  path  of 
his  quest.  Gleams  of  the  way  he  went  may 
be  seen  in  his  four  discarded  drafts  for  a 
tragedy,  clearer  marks  are  traceable  in  that 
long  neglected  work,  the  Treatise  on  Christian 
Doctrine^  and  in  Paradise  Lost,  Nor  is  this 
all  that  is  to  be  held  in  mind  at  the  outset  of 
our  study. 

With  the  theories  of  the  epic  and  the  tragedy 
laid  down  by  the  critics  of  the  past  and  of  the 
contemporary  periods  Milton  was  thoroughly 
conversant  but,  like  all  great  artists,  he  cared 


What  is  an  Epic?  13 

less   for   Aristotle   or    Bossii   than   for   Homer  I 
and  Virgil,  less  for  the  man  who  preached  dog-  I 
mas  than  for  him  who  created  a  masterpiece.  \ 
Independent  as  Milton  was  in  his  cast  of  mind, 
he  developed  his  own  theories  and  thought  his 
own  thoughts,  but  he  mined  so  deep  and  broad 
a  vein  of  thought  that  he  struck  beneath  the  \ 
superficial  peculiarities   of  a  century,  or  of  a 
nation,  into  the  more  universal  thought  of  man. 

Upon  this  deeper  train  of  thought  rather 
than  upon  the  foibles  of  seventeenth  century 
England,  the  reader  should  centre  his  atten- 
tion, if  he  is  to  advance  far  in  the  appreciation 
of  Paradise  Lost.  Indeed  there  is  little  reason 
for  discussing  a  fact  so  obvious  as  that  Milton 
has  some  defects  common  to  his  century,  for 
these  faults,  indeed,  may  be  picked  off  easily 
from  the  surface  of  Paradise  Lost,  And  if 
they  were  ever  worth  an  argument,  all  that  is 
to  be  said  was  chronicled  long  ago.  Beneath 
all  this  exterior  criticism,  lies  the  epic's  endur- 
ing strength  and  beauty,  and  that  is  found  in 
the  harmony  of  the  most  important  of  all 
themes  elaborated  in  its  essential  art  form. 

A  comparative  study  of  the  great  master- 
pieces in  the  epic  and  in  the  tragedy,  and  of 
the   typical   versions    of   man's    fall    produced 


14      The  Epic  of  Paradise  Lost 

from   the    fourth    to    the    eighteenth    centuries, 
leads    one    to    the    conclusion    that    for    aid    in 
treating  his  difficult  theme  of  man's  fall,  Mil- 
ton was  not  indebted,  in  a  very  vital  way,  to 
any  writer  who   had  not  himself   grasped   the 
/essential  epical  idea  in  the  subject.     It  is  true 
y£l  enough  that  Milton  culled  from  a  wide  field  of 
\  sources    numerous    fragments    which    he    fused 
/  with  his  work,  but  for  an  appreciation  of  his 
\genius,    it    is    not    so    essential    to    attain    a 
knowledge  of  the  source  of  the  fragments  as  it 
is  to  grasp  the  fundamental  conception  of  his 
art.     Without  such  a  comprehension,  the  stu- 
dent may   sail   indeed   without   a   rudder   or   a 
pilot  and  thus  unguided  he  may  find  himself 
at   the   mercy    of    every   modern    Lauder — and 
the  danger  is  not  past — who  proclaims  his  dis- 
covery of  a  man  of  small  genius   from  whose 
well-nigh    forgotten    works    Milton    has    filched 
his  fame.  '  It  is  only  by  a  comprehension  of  the 
inevitableness  of  the  theme's  expression  in  art 
form  that  the  clearer  vision  is  gained  of  the 
^  sense   in   which   Milton   bettered   the  borrowed 
and    proved    himself    a    giant    indeed,    but    no 
plagiarist  of  pigmies. 

For  jthe  conclusion,  that  the  episode  of  man's 
fall  must  find  its  inevitable  expression  not  in  a 


X 


What  is  an  Epic?  15 

tragedy  but  in  an  epic,  there  are  three  funda|  \ 
mental  reasons.     In  the  first  place  the  material      f^ 
required  for  a  portrayal  of  Adam's  fall  is  too        H 
extensive  for  a  tragedy,  and  requires  the  whole 
background   of   the   infinite.      Indeed,   the   epi- 
sode of  Adam's  disobedience  must  be  shown  in 
its  sequence  in  the  longer  narrative  of  Lucifer's 
struggle  to  avert  the  decree  of  God,  that  unto 
His  Son  every  knee  should  bow.     Ejao^Jklilton  ;^^^ 
views  Adam's  fall  as  an  incident  in  the  lona: 
war   between    Satan    and   the   Messiah,   and   it 
cannot  be  told  apart  from  its   setting  in   the    ^ 
larger  story  of  the  contest  of  evil  with  good.  \ 
Not  only     the  presence  of  the  mystical  back- 
ground,   but    the    unavoidable    length    of    the 
story ;  the  demand  for  the  deliberate  analysis  of 
character ;   and   the   need   of   many   marvellous ' 
and  illusive  details   require  the   elaboration   of 
the  epic  rather  than  that  of  the  briefer,  more 
concrete    method    of    a    tragedy.     All    of    the 
scenes   in  this   spiritual   conflict   of   Adam   fall| 
naturally  under  the  double  related  episodes  that 
are  characteristic  of  every  epic.    \The  two  in-      N( 
terdependent  plots  in  this  case  are  the  fall  of 
Lucifer  and  the  fall  of  nian. 

The    second    reason    for    holding    the    epic 
method  as  inevitable  is  found  in  the  fact  that 


1 6       The  Epic  of  Paradise  Lost 

the  theme  of  man's  fall  requires  for  its  success- 
ful treatment  such  surprising  and  marvellous 
I  details    as    are   impossible    for   portrayal    in    a 
tragedy,  but  such   as   are  fitting  in  an   epic. 


/  The  ideal  beauty   of  the   garden   of  Eden,   of 

(    Adam  and  Eve  in  their  state  of  innocence  ap- 

1  peals  more  accurately  to  the  inner  vision  than 

f  to  the  outward  eye.     Moreover  the   guardian 

angels  flashing  their  celestial  beauty  among  the 

trees  of  the  garden,  the  lurking  fiend  with  his 

countless  transformations,  his  amazing  voyages 

into   chaos,   and  his   flights  through  the  solar 

system  are  all  details  unsuited  to  a  tragedy,  but 

if  attempted  at  all  are  dependent  for  success 

upon  the  devices  peculiarly  fitted  to  the  epic. 

There  remains  to  be  mentioned  the  third  and 
the  greatest  reason  for  holding  the  epic  form 
as  inevitable  for  man's  fall,  and  that  is  found  in 
the  fact  that  throughout  the  story  Milton's  be- 
lief compelled  him  to  make  prominent  the  dom- 
ination of  Christ  over  Satan.  For  this  reason 
man's  fall  issues  necessarily,  not  in  a  tragedy, 
but  in  a  Christian  epic  in  which  Christ  is  the 
\  hero  who  triumphs  over  Satan;  and  man  be- 
I  comes  a  victorious  hero  only  when,  through 
^^  Af^^i^h  ^^^  hope,  he  partakes   of  the  Messiah's 


i  Y^iumph. 


What  is  an  Epic  ?  17 

Whether  this  view  is  accepted  as  a  dogma  or 
not,  the  hopeful  view  of  man's  regeneration 
is  necessary  in  this  story,  not  only  for  the 
sound  philosophy  of  life  but  for  the  strength 
and  dignity  of  the  art.  Without  this  underly- 
ing optimism  the  theme  would  lack  vitality, 
for  whatever  one  may  assert  about  the  neces- 
sity of  pessimism,  he  must  concede  that  no  great 
art  was  ever  yet  produced  that  had  for  its 
theme  the  final  triumph  of  the  evil  over  the 
good,  but  all  great  art  is  based  upon  the  ideal 
that  somehow  and  somewhere  the  evil  is  purged 
away  and  the  good  triumphs.  If  this  be  true, 
the  theme  of  man's  fall  requires  for  its  culmina- 
tion such  an  expression  of  the  triumph  of  the 
good  as  is  afforded  in  Christ's  victory  over 
Satan. 

A  final  calm  after  the  battle  is  essential  in 
both  the  tragedy  and  the  epic,  and  is  a  subtle 
revelation  of  an  element  of  hope  common  to  hu- 
manity; but  in  an  epic  the  emphasis  is  thrown 
upon  the  triumph  of  a  cause,  in  a  tragedy  the 
Istress  is  upon  the  suffering  of  the  hero.  The 
light  of  hope  breaks  from  afar  upon  a  black 
horizon  in  the  tragedy ;  in  an  epic  this  light  r^^^^"^ 
irradiates  the  end.  But  the  fundamental  dif-  y 
ference  between  the  epic  and  the  tragedy  lies   / 


1 8      The  Epic  of  Paradise  Lost 

in  the  extent  and  in  the  method  of  presentation 
of  the  background  of  Hfe's  mystery. 

The  reason  for  the  difference  in  the  scope  is 
aUied  to  the  difference  in  the  method  of  the  epic 
and  of  the  tragedy.  The  normal  tragedy  is  a 
direct  dramatic  appeal  to  the  sympathies  made 
by  a  worthy  hero  who  by  conscious  or  uncon- 
scious act  sets  loose  the  conflicting  forces  of 
evil  and  of  good  that  bring  about  his  suffering 
or  his  death  in  a  sad  and  important  crisis.  In 
the  Renaissance  it  became  common  for  scholars 
to  write  tragedies  as  academic  exercises  in  the 
style  of  the  classic  authors  of  Greece  or  of 
Rome.  As  the  performance  of  these  produc- 
tions upon  the  stage  was  an  entirely  secondary 
consideration,  and  they  might  therefore  over- 
look the  direct  artistic  appeal  of  a  tragedy, 
these  plays  were  digressions  from  the  normal 
evolution  of  tragedy  from  ^schylus  to  Shakes- 
peare, or  from  Marlowe  to  the  present  time. 
With  this  literary  type  in  mind,  it  is  possible 
to  divide  tragedies  into  three  groups :  those 
written  to  be  acted  and  performed  successfully; 
those  written  to  be  acted  and  performed  unsuc- 
cessfully; those  written  withgut  the  slightest 
regard  to  presentation. 

This  last  class,  of  tragedies  to  be  read  only, 


What  is  an  Epic  ?  19 

has  multiplied  and  differentiated  into  several 
types.  Whatever  their  success,  the  first  two 
classes  ha^  the  aim  of  normal  tragedy  in  the 
nature  of  their  artistic  appeal  to  the  audience; 
the  third,  apart  as  it  is  from  the  logical  de- 
velopment of  the  tragedy,  is  a  distinct  sub- 
ject for  research  in  itself  and  throws  no  new 
light  upon  the  consideration  of  the  basis  of  dif- 
ference and  of  Ukeness  in  the  epic  and  the 
tragedy. 

We  shall,  therefore,  in  these  essays,  confine 
our  attention  to  the  normal  tragedy.     An  epicU 
like  a  tragedy,  does  not  fail  to  present  a  hera 
of  strength  and  of  force  of  character,  who  seems] 
never  unworthy  of  attention  nor  incapable  of* 
bearing  the  theme  to  its  logical  conclusion,  but 
the  story  of  the  epic  differs  from  the  tragedy 
both  in  its  method  and  in  its  scope.     The  epic 
takes  for  its  theme  no  less  than  a  problem  of 
importance  to  a  nation  or  to  the  human  race.  - 
A  hero  renowned  in  history,  or  in  the  popular 
belief,   strives   and   is   impeded,   or  is   attacked 
and  resists,  and  the  end  of  the  epic  is  usuallt 
the  triumph  of  the  hero ;  at  all  events,  the  issue! 
heralds  the  succe^  of  the  principles  for  which  \ 
he  has  striven./ There  may  be  within  the  con- A 
fines  of  the  eprc,  themes  for  a  score  of  trage- 


20      The  Epic  of  Paradise  Lost 

dies,  but  such  a  tragedy  does  not  take  for  its 
subject  the  whole  epic  theme,  for  the  scope^of 

/the  epic  is  too  vast  for  a  tragedy.  ^  y^ 

Upon  this  point  it  is  necessary*^  dwell  at 
some  length;  scores  of  writers  had  attempted 
to  write  a  tragedy  upon  the  subject  of  Adam's 
fall;  why  had  they  failed?  I  have  been 
told  that  it  was  because  they  were  men  of 
small  power  and  that  if  Shakespeare  had  at- 
tempted to  write  a   tragedy  on  man's  fall  he 

..  would  have  succeeded.  When  this  statement 
•is  analysed  into  its  component  parts,  it  is  not, 
I  believe,  impregnable.  Why  may  it  not  be 
more  reasonable  to  hold  that  Shakespeare  had 
too  much  literary  insight  to  attempt  the  theme, 
Adam  unparadised,   in   a  tragedy.'^  ^'"^ 

Indeed  such  an  attempt  is  foreign  to  his 
whole  art  method.  No  subject  was  better 
known  in  pre-Shakespearean  drama  than 
Adam's  fall:  a  subject  so  prominent  could 
hardly  have  failed  to  take  his  attention,  if  its 
possibilities  in  a  tragedy  were  great.  It  is 
more  reasonable  to  infer  that  he  was  too  wise 
to  attempt  such  an  impossible  theme.  An 
examination  of  the  underlying  notions  leads 
one  to  infer  that  the  authors  ^  under  observa- 
tion  did   not   fail   to   construcif  an   impressive 


What  is  an  Epic?  21 

tragedy  upon  man's  fall  because  they  were  men 
of  small  power  so  much  as  that  they  proved 
that  they  were  men  of  small  endowment  by  per- 
sisting in  an  impossible  attempt.  Milton  on 
the  other  hand  did  try  the  task  of  creating  a 
tragedy  upon  the  origin  of  evil  and  he  gave 
up  the  undertaking;  in  that  fact  I  believe  that 
he  showed  his  artistic  insight.  Nor  are  we  at 
the  mercy  of  vague  hypotheses  if  we  can  solve 
the  fundamental  difference  between  the  epic 
and  the  tragedy;  and  that  difference,  I  be- 
lieve, is  to  be  found  first  of  all  in  the  extent  of 
the  background  upon  which  the  master  artist 
causes  his  figures  to  move. 

By  the  epic  background,  we  mean  the  realm 
whence  issues  life's  unsolvable  mystery. 

An  examination  of  the  great  epics  from  the 
Odyssey  to  Paradise  Lost  and  of  the  tragedies 
from  ^schylus  to  Shakespeare  and  his  succes- 
sors reveals  in  all  a  tendency  to* picture  man  as 
moving  in  a  world  too  vast  for  him  to  compre- 
hend, and  yet  there  is  an  obligation  resting 
upon  the  hero  to  face  the  mystery  and  valiantly 
to  play  the  man.  Meanwhile  the  gods  wrought 
their  mysterious  will  and  "  so  fell  this  marvel- 
lous thing."  There  is  a  difference  in  interpre- 
tation but  the   same  strength   of  appreciation 


22       The  Epic  of  Paradise  Lost 

of  life's  mystery  is  in  the  Odyssey  and  in  Job, 
in  King  Lear  and  in  Paradise  Lost,  as  also  in 
Medea  and  in  Alcestis,  Our  present  interest 
must  be  this  ungrasped  element  in  life  that  both 
the  tragedy  and  the  epic  present  in  varying  de- 
grees of  prominence. 

This  element  of  the  unknown,  this  mystery 
however  named  is  not  to  be  ignored  in  the  life 
of  the  most  practical  man ;  no  matter  how  much 
he  looks  into  the  seeds  of  time  to  see  which 
grain  will  grow  and  which  will  not,  he  knows  not 
the  events  of  his  future  years,  nor  its  calamities, 
nor  its  successes.  He  knows  not  the  hour  of 
his  deathi„nor  has  he  a  clear  picture  of  the  after 
life.  This  element  of  uncertainty  we  usually 
declare  to  be  so  fundamental  that  it  is  too  self- 
evident  to  be  mentioned,  or  in  our  scientific 
longings  for  definiteness,  it  is  frowned  upon, 
as  too  vague  to  be  dwelt  upon;  but  neither  the 
tragedy  nor  the  epic  will  consent  to  ignore  the 
mystery  that  baffles  our  intellects  and  forces 
mysticism  upon  the  most  common-sensible  of 
men.  ~~       ' 

Indeed  if  this  element  of  mystery  in  life  is 
so  vitally  blended  with  all  human  experiences, 
it  can  by  no  possibility  be  eliminated  from  art. 
Out  of  this  mysterious  past  and  future  of  the 


What  is  an  Epic?  23 

race  emerge  two  notions,  the  one  of  a  power  of 
evil  and  the  other  of  a  power  of  good,  and  they 
are  at  perpetual  war.  Either  from  the  in- 
fluence of  the  past  evil  choices  of  men,  or  from 
a  power  of  evil  pressing  upon  man,  there  has 
evplved  a  conception  of  a  total  force  of  evil  that 
rushes  in  like  the  flood  tide  at  the  sHghtest 
weakening  of  the  defence.  But  if  one  has  not 
separated  one's  self  from  the  forces  of  good, 
there  is  nothing  that  can  intercept  the  flight  of 
good  angels  to  the  rescue,  not  even  tribula- 
tions nor  distress,  peril  nor  sword.  I 

The  background  of  the  mystery  of  life, 
whence  the  two  warring  forces  of  good  and  of 
evil  emerge  to  fight  out  a  portion  of  a  desper- 
ate battle,  is  treated  in  both  the  epic  ^<nd  in  the 
tragedy,  but  with  a  difference. 

The  duration  of  the  conflict  of  good  and  of 
evil  in  the  tragedy  is  brief,  for  the  problem 
must  be  presented  by  a  series  of  startlingly 
clear  pictures.  The  emphasis  must  nowhere  be 
doubtful;  therefore  the  appeal  to  the  imagina- 
tion should  be  definite,  the  sympathies  enlisted 
from  the  outset,  and  carried  with  increasing 
emotion  to  the  tragic  end.  Othello  is  duped  by 
lago,  but  the  most  ignorant  man  in  the  pit  un- 
derstands well  enough  this  son  of  darkness;  for 


24       The  Epic  of  Paradise  Lost 

subtleties  of  criticism  nowhere  are  needed  for 
the  observers'  direct  comprehension  of  what 
forces  are  at  work;  that  is  the  tragic  method. 
Concreteness  is  its  supreme  need  and  definite- 
ness  of  appeal  its  artistic  goal.  After  the  play, 
the  student  may  reason  and  welcome,  and  there 
is  legitimate  ground  unquestionably  for  his 
thought,  but  the  philosophy  is  not  the  drama 
any  more  than  the  root  is  the  flower. 

Since  concrete  vividness  is  the  life  of  the 
tragedy,  the  attention  cannot  be  distracted  by 
too  large  a  field,  therefore  the  mystery  of  life 
should  not  be  presented  entire.  That  human 
suffering  is  not  meted  out  in  payment  for  sin, 
is  too  common  a  mystery  to  be  foreign  to  the 
tragedy.  Why  do  the  righteous  suffer?  is 
an  older  problem  than  the  book  of  Job,  but  a 
display  of  the  whole  background  of  life's  mys- 
tery is  suited  only  to  the  epic,  and  there  alone 
can  find  the  means  for  its  presentation,  which  is 
by  the  epic  method,  and  by  the  suggestive  de- 
vices peculiar  to  the  epic. 

IBut  what  is  the  epic  method  .'^ 
The  scope  of  the  tragedy  should  be  relatively 
intense  rather  than  broad  and  should  preserve 
its  vividness  by  concrete  pictures  from  human 
life.  /  The  epic  has  no  limit  in  its  scope,  indeed 


What  is  an  Epic  ?  25 

it  may  aim  at  nothing  less  than  the  flashing  • 
forth  of  the  whole  background  of  life's  mys- 
tery, for  it  moves  upon  the  stage  of  the  uni- 
verse and  by  no  means  confines  itself  to  the 
actualities  known  to  the  senses ;  Olympus, 
Earth,  and  Hades  have  been  its  scene  of  action, 
or  Heaven,  Earth,  and  Hell,  and  all  that  lies 
between.  Vividness  it  must  have,  but  its 
method  is  extended  and  deliberate  and  there- 
fore it  may  have  leisure  for  developing,  by  a 
wealth  of  (Jfixices,  suggestive  pictures  that  at- 
tain its  art  purposes. 

The  epic's  scope  extends  so  far  outside  the 
visible  life  of  man  that  it  must  build  for  itself 
a  magic  bridge  of  philosophical   and   poetical    j 
thought  upon  which  man  may  penetrate  into    i 
the  infinite   mystery.    The   success   of   an   epic    I 
must   depend  upon   the   author's   subtle   power 
to  span  this  gap.     The  modern  man  is  pecu- 
liarly sceptical  of  the  safety  of  such  a  bridge 
and  therein  lies  the  chief  difficulty  in  writing 
an  epic  to-day.     In  an  epic,  we  cross  and  re-w, 
cross  the  bridge  of  thought  and  imagination  y^^ 
in  the  tragedy,  I  believe  that  we  stand  always    ; 
at  the  visible  end  and  strain  our  eyes  across  the 
gap   for   a   moment.     In   an    ^pic,   we   see   not 
alone  the  ^ods   on  the  battlefield,  but  we   are 


26       The  Epic  of  Paradise  Lost 

'  present  at  their  council  in  Olympus ;  we  witness 
not  alone  the  strivings  of  the  hero  on  the  field 
of  the  world,  but  we  follow  him  to  that  bourne 
whence  no  traveller  can  return.  In  the  trag- 
edy, our  attention  is  centred  upon  the  concrete 
effects  of  these  mysterious  forces  rather  than 
upon  the  forces  themselves ;  that  is  the  capital 
difference  between  the  epic  and  the  tragedy. 
It  is,  for  instance,  the  suffering  of  Everyman 
in  his  last  hour, — in  his  consciousness  that  he 
has  misspent  his  life — ^that  rivets  our  atten- 
tion, not  the  abstract  forces  that  surround  him. 
Indeed  the  tragedy  that  holds  our  eyes  is  very 

I  concrete  in  Everyman. 

This  restriction  of  a  tragedy  has  been  ques- 
tioned, but  setting  aside  the  hybrid  offshoots 
of  the  tragedy,  there  seems  to  me  among  the 
great  masterpieces  of  literature  either  a  tacit 
or  a  pronounced  admission  of  this  principle. 
Goethe's  Faust,  Marlowe's  Dr,  Faustus,  Shakes- 
peare's Macbeth  and  Hamlet,  and  Hauptmann's 
Versuntcene  Glocke,  are  among  the  works  that 
have  been  cited  and  doubtless  will  be  urged  in 
disproof  of  such  a  limitation  of  tragedy;  but 
is    this    objection   well   founded? 

Surely  Shakespeare  in  his  most  truly  dra- 
matic   tragedies    shows    a    subtle    and    skilful 


What  is  an  Epic?  27 

method  of  limiting  the  mystic  background  to 
that  which  is  presentable  in  concrete  pictures 
from  human  life.  In  so  far  as  the  mystery  of 
our  actual  life  is  intensified  by  glimpses  of  the 
unseen  world,  it  may  be  urged  that  Hamlet 
moves  against  a  background  vaster  than  I 
have  indicated  and  that  it  involves  a  field  of 
epic  scope.  In  a  limited  sense  this  seems  at 
first  thought  to  be  true,  but  the  method  in 
Hamlet  is  not  the  epic  method,  nor  is  the  epic 
method  required,  for  the  epic  background  is 
not  really  presented. 

It  must  be  remembered  that  the  important 
fact  in  Hamlet  is  not  at  all  the  appearance 
of  the  ghost,  but  Hamlet's  emotions  and  reflec- 
tions upon  the  advent  of  the  ghost.  The 
ghost  himself  does  not  take  us  in  imagination 
to  the  epic  background,  he  does  not  invite  us 
to  journey  with  him  to  that  mysterious  bourne. 
He  reveals  no  mysteries  of  his  prison  house,  but 
he  confines  his  confidences  strictly  to  matters  of 
this  earth,  to  his  own  family  affairs,  and  even 
to  the  grounds  of  Hamlet's  own  suspicions. 
This  ghost,  indeed,  startles  us  far  less  than  he 
arouses  our  sympathies;  we  think  of  him  as 
kind,  noble,  and  likeable,  but  we  cannot  con- 
ceive of  his  being  very  wise  in  the  affairs  of 


28      The  Epic  of  Paradise  Lost 

the  unknown  world.  There  is  no  trace  of  his 
having  power  to  lead  us  into  the  infinite^  but  he 
stands  at  the  human  end  of  the  bridge.  Neither 
the  witches  in  Macbeth  nor  the  ghost  in  Hamlet 
are  half  so  mysteriously  horrible  as  Goneril 
and  Regan  or  lago ;  they  indeed  would  more 
potently  present  the  mystery  of  incalculable  evil. 

In  Macbeth,  the  witches  are  emissaries  of 
evil,  but  they  do  not  sweep  us  in  imagination 
to  the  realm  of  Chaos  and  old  Night ;  we  do  not 
feel  the  awesome  horror  of  hell,  but  the  grew- 
some  fancy  of  black  art  whose  feet  rest  on  the 
earth.  Indeed  the  witches  are  earth-bom, — 
tricksy,  malign  spirits,  bubbles,  Banquo  calls 
them, — ^but  they  are  of  folk-lore  descent  and 
therefore  they  are  adapted  to  concrete  present- 
ation, for  they  are  nearer  to  humanity  than  to 
Erebus.  This  degree  of  concreteness,  which 
might  be  a  defect  in  an  epic,  is  artistically  bet- 
ter in  a  tragedy,  for  as  the  witches  are  only  on 
the  border-land  of  the  world  of  abstractions, 
the  backward  plunge  into  the  actualities  of  the. 
stage  is  more  easily  made. 

All  through  Hauptmann's  Versunkene 
GlocJce,  the  same  border-land  of  actualities  is 
skirted,  and  folk-lore,  which  is  never  a  great 
mental  tax  nor  an  imaginative  tax,  so  that  we 


What  is  an  Epic?  29 

be  simple  in  heart,  is  the  basis  of  this  tragedy, — 
and  folk-lore  does  not  illuminate  the  epic  back- 
ground. The  author  of  this  play,  The  Sunken 
Belly  after  long  research  in  folk-lore,  produced 
this  combination  of  ancient  belief  in  demonology 
and  of  modern  psychology.  Reduced  to  its 
simplest  outline,  it  is  a  story  of  a  man  who  is 
led  aside  from  the  simple  path  of  duty  into  a 
selfish  FaustUke  quest  of  the  unattainable  and 
intangible.  He  seeks  he  knows  not  what ;  lost 
in  unhuman  passion,  he  is  oblivious  to  his  bond 
to  the  village  community  and  even  to  his  ob- 
ligations to  his  wife  and  to  his  child — until  the 
tolling  of  the  bell  of  the  memory  of  his  former 
aspirations  to  serve  mankind  awakens  him  too 
late  to  a  realisation  of  his  failure. 

In  the  development  of  this  plot,  with  a  ma- 
chinery of  superstition,  lies  its  claim  to  origin- 
ality; it  nowhere  ventures  into  the  vastness 
of  the  epic  background,  but  skirts  the  shore 
of  the  material  world  in  its  emphasis  upon  folk- 
lore. This  preponderance  of  the  folk-lore 
superstition  in  the  Versunkene  Glocke  must 
cause  the  tragedy  to  be  placed  among  produc- 
tions that  at  this  age  of  the  world  are  excep- 
tional and  somewhat  artiiScial,  no  matter  how 
interesting. 


30      The  Epic  of  Paradise  Lost 

The  success  in  the  presentation  of  the  Ver- 
sunkene  Glocke  Hes  in  the  romantic  interest  that 
the  novelty  of  folk-lore  may  arouse  in  the  audi- 
ence, for  a  sympathetic  attitude  is  demanded 
toward  a  belief  in  demonology,  which  makes  its 
appeal  through  the  material  world  of  our  sensu- 
ous impressions,  like  the  lubber  fiend  who  with 
his  shadowy  flail  hath  threshed  the  corn  and 
drunk  the  cream  bowl  duly  set.  The  real 
power  of  the  play  is  in  the  thought  that  un- 
derneath the  folk-lore  lies  a  general  psycholog- 
ical truth,  in  a  very  human  struggle  with  a 
very  human  temptation,  but  it  is  not  fought 
in  the  field  of  the  epic  background — the  earth 
is  the  scene. 

As  to  Faust,  no  student  could  substantiate 
a  claim  for  that  as  formal  tragedy  in  the  ar- 
tistic sense  of  the  word.  It  is  indeed  in  many 
respects  epical.  The  Marguerite  episode  is  a 
tragedy  in  which  Marguerite  is  the  heroine. 
The  Helen  of  Troy  episode  is  not  a  tragedy; 
and  in  the  final  choice  of  Faust  to  serve  his 
fellow-men,  he  "  cheats  the  devil  "  and  reaches 
the  chastened  triumph  of  the  Christian  epic 
hero.  In  the  marvels  of  this  work  of  Goethe, 
it  is  noticeable  that  the  preternatural  is  of  two 
contrasting  sources;  either  as   a  concrete  ex- 


What  is  an  Epic?  31 

pression  for  an  abstract  philosophical  thought, 
or  as  the  simple  homely  folk-lore  of  demonology. 

Students  of  Goethe  do  not  claim  that  he  has 
perfected  his  art  form  in  the  Faust,  The  work 
is  not  successful  in  its  entirety  upon  the  stage, 
and  even  in  the  opera,  with  the  advantage  of  a 
wealth  of  device,  despite  Boito's  attempt,  the 
three  parts  have  not  been  successfully  pre- 
sented. The  full  art  evolution  of  Faust  as 
philosophically  conceived  by  Goethe  would,  I 
believe,  form  an  epic,  but  in  the  work,  as  it 
now  stands,  there  is  a  certain  emphasis  thrown 
upon  the  method  of  a  tragedy  in  the  clearer 
presentation  of  the  human  end  of  the  bridge 
into  the  infinite,  and  in  the  earth-born  horrors 
of  the  Walpurgis  night. ^ 

In  Marlowe's  Dr.  Faustus  the  full  presenta- 
tion of  the  prince  of  darkness  is  not  given,  nor 
of  the  forces  of  evil,  but  our  attention  is  cen- 
tred upon  the  human  hero  and  his  visions  of 
evil.  The  tragedy  has  indeed  epical  charac- 
teristics still  it  does  not  move  upon  the  epic 
background  but  remains  in  the  field  of  tragedy. 

But  there  are  tragedies  that  do  flash  forth, 

*  Ibsen's  Peer  Gynt,  "the  Norwegian  Faust,"  with  its 

machinery  of  folk-lore  and    satirical  comedy  elements, 

ends  in  an  epic  strain,  but  the  author  leaves  his  work 

wisely  unclassified  as  *'  a  dramatic  poem." 


32      The  Epic  of  Paradise  Lost 

at  moments,  the  full  background  of  mystery, 
to  the  distraction  of  our  minds  from  the  con- 
crete picture  before  us.  What  shall  be  said  of 
these  tragedies?  My  opinion  is  that  they  are 
in  this  regard  epical  and  that  they  may,  by 
this  widening  of  scope,  rise  in  grandeur,  but 
that  this  gain  in  elevation  results  in  a  corre- 
sponding loss  in  tragic  definiteness.  This  rise 
into  epic  height  is  conspicuous  in  King  Lear, 
when  we  are  led  into  the  heart  of  life's  mystery 
and  the  rumblings  of  the  deep  and  the  shock  of 
unchained  forces  startle  our  ears;  while  we 
strain  our  eyes  for  rays  of  hope  and  find  peace 
in  the  triumph  of  the  spirit.  Although  I  be- 
lieve that  the  epic  background  is  present  in 
King  Lear  to  the  disturbance  of  the  clearness 
of  the  dramatic  scenes,  the  method  is  not  the 
epic  method.  We  still  stand  at  the  human  end 
of  the  bridge  and  look  aghast  and  wonderstruck 
into  the  infinite ;  and  while  King  Lear  has  epical 
characteristics,  it  remains,  in  method  and  de- 
velopment, a  tragedy,  but  a  tragedy  that  is 
burdened  with  the  "  mystery  of  all  this  unintel- 
ligible world,"  a  tragedy  with  an  epical  trend. 
f  It  is  evident  that  the  theme — the  origin  of 
evil  in  Eden — moves  upon  the  whole  epic  back- 
ground, in  relation  to  that  realm  its  scenes  are 


What  is  an  Epic  ?  33 

alone  intelligible,  and  that  it  requires  the  epic 
method  of  presentation ;  for  the  characters  and  ♦. 
the  entire  story  are  unfitted  for  the  degree  of 
brevity    and    of    concreteness    demanded    for    a 
successful  tragedy.  j|^ 

'    The  first  essential  reason  for  the  epic  method 
in  the  treatment  of  this  theme  is  found  in  the  * 
need  of  ajoarrgtpr.     Milton  had  tried  the  serv-  •, 
ices  of  a  chorus  in  his  drafts  for  a  tragedy  on  ] 
man's  fall,  but  he  had  decided  that  no  chorus 
however  communicative  could  convey  what  the 
epic   story-teller  has   the  privilege   of  relating 
and  the  subject  required  the  aid  of  the  epic 
narrator,    j 

Nor  is  it  possible  for  the  writer  on  the  theme 
of  Adam's  fall,  if  he  is  to  give  probability  and 
convincing  power  to  his  story,  to  dispense  with 
a  variety  of  other  epic  devices,  concrete  enough 
for  an  appeal  to  our  imaginations,  but  not  so 
realistic  as  to  lose  the  hold  upon  the  shadowy 
vastness  of  its  background,  nor  to  make  it  the 
story  merely  of  a  man  and  of  a  woman  rather 
than  of  universal  humanity.  In  this  particular, 
the  artistic  gain  by  the  epic  treatment  in 
Paradise  Lost,  over  the  tragic  method  in  Luci- 
fer and  in  Adam  in  Boilings  chap  of  Vondel,  is 
a  conspicuous  proof  of  Milton's  genius  and  of 


\) 


34      The  Epic  of  Paradise  Lost 

y  his     growth     in     wisdom     in     abandoning     his 
\  early  schemes  for  a  tragedy  upon  the  fall  of 

man. 
^  With    the    services    of    an    omnipresent    and 
^omniscient  narrator  the  epic  writer  may,  as  in 
"^  1/1  Paradise  Lost  or  in  the  Mneid,  by  a  skilful  use 
\    A  of   metaphor   and   allusion,   present   a   striking 
l\  picture    to    the    reader's    imagination    of   what 
I  could  not  be  presented  in   any  way  upon   the 
f  stage.     The  remarkable  artistic  achievement  of 
Virgil  in  book  sixth  of  the  Mneid  is  depend- 
ent upon  the  epic  method. 

iff  Nor  must  it  be  forgotten  that  in  Paradise 

I  Lost  Milton's  problem  like  Virgil's  was  made 

A  doubly   difficult   by   the   fact   that   he   was   at- 

i  tempting  to  express  in  poetry  notions  familiar 

in  religion,  philosophy,  and  art.     The  tendency 

J   of    religious    thought    is    to    seek    expression 

through    imagination    in    spiritual    conceptions 

^   relatively    concrete;    philosophy    on    the    other 

hand  aims   at  purest  abstract  terms;  and  art 

strives  to  embody  spiritual  conceptions  of  re- 

J  ligion  and  abstractions  of  philosophy  in  a  form 

■""  that  must  be  concrete,  if  it  be  art  at  all.     With 

this  difficulty  in  mind,  we  view  the  author's  skill 

by   the   nature   of   the   concrete   appeal   to   the 

j  imagination  that  is  chosen  by  his  art.     What 


What  is  an  Epic  ?  35 

shall  be  the  basis  of  the  concreteness  ?  The 
easiest  method  is  materialistic  but  it  is  not 
the  most  efficient.  The  folk-lore  of  demon- 
ology  and  of  the  miracle  and  of  the  morality 
play  indeed  presents  spiritual  conceptions  in 
the  terms  of  the  material  world.  But  modern 
ideas  show  the  progressive  tendency  of  the 
nautilus  and  discard  the  past  sensuous  por- 
trayal of  spiritual  conceptions  as  incomplete  or 
absurd  and  demand  a  new  picture  that  more 
adequately  depicts  the  product  of  advancing 
abstract  thought.  Living  as  he  did  in  the 
midst  of  the  seventeenth-century  dogmatism . 
about  spiritual  conceptions,  Milton  was  not 
however  either  totally  iconoclastic  nor  wholly 
cons^ervative,  but  he  did  earnestly  seek  to  recon- 
cile his  own  notions  of  philosophy,  of  religion, 
and  of  art  in  the  relatively  concrete  imagina-n| 
tive  product  of  Paradise  Lost,  A  study  of  his  ^ 
epic  in  the  light  of  his  Treatise  on  Christian 
Doctrvne  reveals  that  he  is  constantly  aware  of 
the  demand  of  philosophical  abstraction  on  the 
one  hand  and  of  religious  spiritual  conceptions 
on  the  other.  It  is  therefore  frequently  neces- 
sary in  the  examination  of  Paradise  Lost  to 
refer  to  the  rpalnn  of  thf>  philosophically  ab- 
stract.    For   however    opposed   the   method   of 


36      The  Epic  of  Paradise  Lost 

philosophy  may  seem  in  its  expression  to  art, 
it  is,  after  all,  the  fundamental  basis  of  art,  if 
that  art  has  advanced  far  in  the  evolution  of  its 
mission.;  How  to  portray  the  world  of  the 
spirit  in  the  imaginative  terms  of  art  and  in  the 
language  sanctioned  by  his  notions  of  abstract 
truth  was  the  most  difficult  problem  in  Paradise 
Lost,  Milton's  solution  of  the  problem  may  be 
discovered  by  an  examination  of  his  epical 
d^ices. 

In  the  description  of  Satauj  Milton  calls  to 
his  aid  the  close  alliance  of  metaphor  and  of  al- 
lusion ;  and  both  are  essential  for  establishing 
the  elevation  of  tone  and  the  reasonableness 
of  character  and  of  action  in  the  epic.  Allu- 
sions also  aid  Milton  frequently  to  create  an 
atmosphere,  without  which  the  details  would 
iSeem  more  improbable  than  interesting. 

_For  instance  the  battle  of  the  good  and  bad 
\  angels   is  inconceivable  and  is   perilously  near 
;  to  the  grotesque,  indeed  in  UAdamo  the  com- 
bat becomes  ridiculous ;  but  in  Paradise  Lost, 
the  attention  is  withdrawn   from  the  difficulty 
of  forming  the  picture  of  Satan  as  a  general, 
by  a  comparison  with  the  struggle  of  Charle- 
V    \       magne    and    his    twelve    peers    and    the    tragic 
^^      battle  at  Fontarabia,  or  the  romance  of  Uther's 


What  is  an  Epic  ?  37 

son,  begirt  with  British  and  Amoric  knights — 

And  all  who  since,  baptised  or  infidel 
JousteAn  Aspramont,  or  Montalban, 
Damasco,  or  Morocco,  or  Trebisond. 

By  means  of  these  allusions  the  reader  forgets    / 
to   be   literal   and   enters   into   the  imaginative    V 
world   of  romance,  where  all  seems   reasonable  i  [ 
and  clear,  but  there  is  no  loss  of  philosophical  ij}. 
accuracy.     Nor   are  the  spirits   made  to   seem    [7 
of  material  substance.     Even  in  the  battle  in 
heaven,  the  mystery  of  chemical  explosions  and 
of   thunderbolts    redeems   the    scenes    from   the 
charge   of   ordinary   realism. 

Another   instance   of   the   aid   of   allusion 
•   found  in  the  calling  of  the  council  at  Pande 
monium  and  the  report  of  the  speeches,  for  we 
unconsciously    compare    Moloch,    Belial,    Mam- 
mon, and  Beelzebub,  with  the  Grecian  heroes  m 
consultation.     By  means  of  this  use  of  allusion, 
Milton    gains     clearer-cut    individualities    that 
are    seized   by    our    imaginations    as   vivid,    al- 
though philosophically  considered  the  speakers 
at  the  council  are  all  expressions  of  the  great 
all-embracing  spirit  of  evil,  Satan  himself,  and 
they  can  say  only  what  he  wills  them  to  say.^ 
From  an   artistic  point  of  view,  however,  this 
complete    subordination    should   not   be   promi- 


38      The  Epic  of  Paradise  Lost 

nent ;   if  it  were,   there  would   result  only  the 

barrenness  of  allegory,  fatal  to  the  epic.      Still 

the  failure  to  show  the  proper  aegree  of  sub- 

fc  ordination  would  render  the  portrayal  untrue.^ 

Another  skilful  use  of  allusion  is  noteworthy; 

in  Paradise  Lost  the  rank  and  file  of  Satan's 

followers  is  made  reasonable  by  a  catalogue  of 

"T^forces,    that,    although   it   leaves    them   in    the 

^  1/        spirit  world,  makes  them  seem  more  concrete  by 

\j\  allusion  to  familiar  names  from  the  Bible  and 

^        classic  lore: 


Say,    muse    their  nameB  then  known,   who  first,  who 

last, 
Roused  from  the  slumber  on  that  fiery  couch 
At  their  great  emp'ror's  call,  as  next  in  worth, 
Came  singly,  where  he  stood  on  the  bare  strand, 

Then  follow  the  names  and  exploits  of  the 
fallen  angels  ^  when  they  wandered  abroad 
among   the   sons   of   men,   enticed   the   sons    of 

'  This  failure  appears  in  Vondel's  Lucifer  in  his  relation 
to  Beelzebub  and  Belial. 

«  The  idea  of  the  fallen  angels  entering  into  idols  and 
misleading  the  sons  of  Adam  is  found  in  the  works  of 
St.  Jerome,  Lucifer  the  Schismatic,  Lactantius,  Divina- 
rum  Institutionum,  Libri  VII. ,  307-310  a.d.  :  De  falsa  re- 
ligionCj  Liber  I.;  De  origine  ein^oris,  Liber  II.;  De  vita 
beata.  Liber  VIL,  and  St.  Augustine,  City  of  Ood, 


What  is  an  Epic  ?  39 

Israel  to  idolatry  on  their  march  from  the  Nile, 
and  reared  their  pagan  temple  high  in  Azotus, 
dreaded  through  the  coast,  // 

Of  Palestine,  in  Gath  and  Ascalon 

And  Accaron,  and  Gaza's  frontier  bounds.    .  .  , 


The  rest  were  long  to  tell,  though  far  renowned  ; 
Th'  Ionian  gods. 


These  first  in  Crete 
And  Ida  known  ;  thence  on  the  snowy  top 
Of  cold  Olympus  rul'd  the  middle  air, 
Their  highest  heaven  ;  or  on  the  Delphian  cliff 
Or  in  Dodona,  and  through  all  the  bounds 
Of  Doric  land  ;  or  who  with  Saturn  old 
Fled  over  Adria  to  th'  Hesperian  fields, 
And  o'er  the  Celtic  roam'd  the  utmost  isles. 
All  these  and  more  came  flocking  ; 

The  forces  of  Satan  in  this  way  become  more 
clearly  defined  through  the  association  of 
ideas  that  have  already  taken  an  imaginative 
form.  These  very  complex  devices  available 
in  an  epic  are  impossible  in  a  tragedy,  and  the 
representation  of  the  fallen  angels  brings  al- 
ways the  peril  of  laughter,  which  defeats  the 
author's  purpose  in  a  tragedyj  In  order  to 
avoid  the  danger  of  a  grotesque  picture,  the 
writer  of  a  tragedy  may  make  the  fallen  angels 
simply  bad  men.     This  solution  of  the  difficulty 


40      The  Epic  of  Paradise  Lost 

is  adopted  in  Adam  in  Ballingschap  with  a  de- 
finite loss  to  the  theme. 

*By  the  epic  method  Milton  overcomes  an- 
other important  difficulty.  These  fallen  angels 
are  liable  to  seem  only  airy  nothings,  but  by 
the  aid  of  the  use  of  metaphor  they  make  a 
^  "more  lasting  impression  upon  our  minds.  We 
are  told  that  they  are  "thick  as  autumnal 
^leaves  that  strew  the  brooks  in  Vallombrosa " 
(802-308,  Book  I.).     They  are  like 

/\ 
/  a  pitchy  cloud 

Of  locu^s,  warping,  on  the  eastern  wind, 

That  o^r  the  realm  of  impious  Pharaoh  hung 

Like  night,  and  darken'd  all  the  land  of  Nile. 

They  resemble  forest  oaks,  or  mountain  pines, 
with  singed  top,  on  the  blasted  heath,  or 

As  bees 
L.^   In  spripgtime,  when  the  sun  with  Taurus  rides. 

A  frhus  by  a  variety  of  metaphor,  writers  of 
^  an  epic  may  convey  an  imaginative  portrayal  of 

Cwhat  cannot  be  accurately  described.  These 
comparisons  create  an  illusion  for  our  minds,  so 
that  we  may  grasp  a  picture  intellectually  rea- 
sonable and  possessed  of  relative  concreteness,  a 
picture,  however,  that  could  not  bear  the  test 
of  visual  presentation  before  a  modern  audience 
critical  of  the  accuracy  of  abstract  ideas,  and 


What  is  an  Epic  ?  41 

therefore    it    cannot    be    given    in    a    tragedy. 
For  that  reason,  the  figure  of  Satan  may  be 
given  in  the  epic,  but  is  unfitted  for  a  tragedjj^ 
Milton   had   indeed   a   very   difficult   problenvi 
to   solve   in   the   presentation   of   the   figure   of  U 
Satan  to  our  imagination,  now  gigantic  enough    I 
to  seem  a  reasonable  antagonist  with  God  and    \ 
his    angels,    now    small    enough    to    perchance     I 
elude  detection  as  he  disseminates  himself  in  a 
mist  and  enters  into  a  lion,  a  leopard,  a  toad, 
or  a  serpent.     All  this  the  poet  must  do  and 
his   art   must   never   impress   us   as    grotesque,  j 
If  Milton   failed  of  a  touch  of  sublimity,  the       ! 
price   was   absurdity    and   loss    of   all   dignity. 
And  this  issue  greatly  to  be  feared  is  exactly 
what  must  happen  if  one  attempts  to  depict  the 
Satan  of  the  story  of  the  fall  of  Lucifer  and  of 
the  fall  of  man  in  a  tragedy. 

Nowhere  has  Milton  shown  subtler  art  than 
in  his  extending  of  his  ^.dlgacxiptiQU.  of-  Sataii 
on^r,.fe   hundred   Hnes^^  first   book^f 

Paradise  Lost,     This  description  is  frequently  7 
interrupted  by  details  that  lead  us  by  degrees  , 
that  look   reasonable  to   our  imagination  to  a 
progressive  portrayal,   carried  forward   chiefly, 
by  metaphor,  aided  by  allusion,  and  by  Satan's 
own  bombastic  speeches  ithat, make  the  readeij 


42      The  Epic  of  Paradise  Lost 

feel  that  the  fallen  archangel  must  be  a  great_^ 
power,  indeed,  lifting  his  defiant  head  against 
\jjigh  heaven  and  unconquered  by  his  fall ;  thus 
we  are  led  to  the  most  finished  part  of  the  de- 
scription, in  these  lines: 

He  scarce  had  ceas'd,  when  the  superior  fiend 
Was  moving  towards  the  shore  ;  his  ponderous  shield, 
Ethereal  temper,  massy,  large  and  round. 
Behind  him  cast ;  the  broad  circumference 
Hung  on  his  shoulders  like  the  moon,  whose  orb 
Through  optic  glass  the  Tuscan  artist  views 
At  ev'ning,  from  the  top  of  Fesole 
Or  in  Valdarno,  to  descry  new  lands, 
Rivers  or  mountains  in  her  spotty  globe. 
His  spear,  to  equal  which  the  tallest  pine, 
Hewn  on  Norwegian  hills  to  be  the  mast 
Of  some  great  ammiral,  were  but  a  wand. 
He  walk'd  with  to  support  uneasy  steps 
Over  the  burning  marie,  not  like  those  steps 
On  heaven's  azure,  and  the  torrid  clime 
Smote  on  him  sore  besides,  vaulted  with  fire. 
Nathless  he  so  indur'd,  till  on  the  beach 
Of  that  inflamed  sea  he  stood,  and  call'd 
.      (283-300.) 

He  call'd  so  loud,  that  all  the  hollow  deep 
Of  hell  resounded.    (314-315.) 

This  eflfect  of  power  could  not  be  given  in  a 
tragedy ;  nor  what  follows  from  line  587  when 
the  description  is  resumed: 

Thus  for  these  beyond 
Compare  of  mortal  prowess,  yet  observ'd 
Their  dread  commander  :  he,  above  the  rest 


What  is  an  Epic  ?  43 

In  shape  and  gesture  proudly  eminent, 

Stood  like  a  tower  ;  his  form  had  yet  not  lost 

All  heForiginal  brightness,  nor  appear'd 

Less  than  archangel  ruin'd,  and  th*  excess 

Of  glory  obscur'd  :  as  when  the  sun  new-ris'n 

Looks  through  the  horizontal  misty  air, 

Shorn  of  his  beams  ;  or  from  behind  the  moon, 

In  dim  eclipse,  disastrous  twilight  sheds 

On  half  the  nations,  and  with  fear  of  change 

Perplexes  monarchs  :  darken'd  so,  yet  shone 

Above  them  all  th'  archangel :  but  his  face 

Deep  scars  of  thunder  had  intrench'd,  and  care 

Sat  on  his  faded  cheek,  but  under  brows 

Of  dauntless  courage,  and  considerate  pride 

Waiting  revenge  :  cruel  his  eye,  but  cast 

Signs  of  remorse  and  passion  to  behold 

The  fellows  of  his  crime,     (587-606.)  , ,    , 

r-  ....  ;^!/ 

Satan's  action  is  dramatic  and  his  speeches  ?  / 
are  spirited  but  they  are  unsuited  to  a  tragedy 
in  every  way  because  they  require  the  epic 
scope.  Even  when  it  is  possible  for  the  tragedy 
to  borrow  from  the  epic,  the  purpose  of  what 
is  borrowed  is  changed  in  the  process,  from 
the  fact  that  it  is  no  longer  subordinated  to 
the  development  of  such  important  problems 
as  the  saving  of  a  nation,  the  founding  of  an 

empire,  or  the  origin  of  sin  in  a  world  otherwis^ 

perfect.     The  sorrow  of  Satan,  or  the  sadness 
of  Adam  is  not  the  theme  of  Paradise  Lost. 

In  a  tragedy  there  is  not  time  for  the  wealth 
of  episode  that  is  useful  in  the  deliberate  method   ^/ 


44      The  Epic  of  Paradise  Lost 

of  the  epici  Mrs.  Fiske's  rendering  of  Becky 
Sharp  is  an  example  of  the  loss  of  opportunity 
for  deliberate  character  development  effected 
by  the  stage.  The  brilliant  characterisation 
that  has  made  Thackeray  so  justly  renowned 
pales  into  comparative  insignificance  in  the 
brevity  of  the  portrayal.  Mrs.  Fiske  may  be 
very  interesting  as  Becky  Sharp,  but  she  is  not 
more  than  one  phase  of  Thackeray's  wonderful 
creation. 

Mrs.  Edith  Wharton  confesses  that  she  has 
met  an  insurmountable  difficulty  in  presenting 
the  Lily  Bart  of  The  House  of  Mirth  upon 
the  stage.  For  her  character,  the  deliberate 
method  of  the  novel  is  indispensable.  It  is  too 
great  a  demand  upon  any  actress  to  compre- 
hend the  subtleties  of  Lily's  complex  motives 
of  action  and  after  that  to  compel  them  to  be 
understood  by  a  varied  and  indolent  audience. 

^ike  the  novel,  the  epic  has  opportunity  to  ex- 
plain changes  of  slow  growth,  of  hidden  tend- 
encies  that   suddenly  leap   into   control   of  the 

,  impulses. 
Kj/  rf"   In  an  epic  like  Paradise  Lost  the  main  pur- 
•^lypose  is  promoted  by  a  great  variety  of  episode, 
JV     \  which,  by  an  appeal  to  the  imagination  of  the 


y 


What  is  an  Epic  ?  45 

sary  harmonious  illusion  and  likeness  of  truth. 
There   is,   for   instanccjr   the   minor   episode   ot,^^\ 

Jatan  caught  b;^Jfee,jingelic  guard,, j^J^^^^SiI^, 
of  Eve,     The  episode,   in  itself,  is  not  neces- 
sary f o£  the  plot;  other  stories  of  the  tempta-      ^  . 
tion  have  no  such  scene,  but  it  has  great  value^^;^-'!'^ 
in  making  vivid  the  perils  of  Satan's  undertak-      ' 
ing    in    entering    the    garden    of    Eden,    thj^s,, 
stronghold  of  God  and  of  his  angels. 

'"""""^Sj^  means  of  this  scene  we  first  realise  the 
hollowness  of  the  arch-fiend's  boasts;  we  see  him 

"cringe  at  the  awful  beauty  of  Ithuriel,  before 

, whose  spear  he  shrinks  as  a  guilty  thing  sur- 
prised, and  he  .drops  perforce  all  subterfuge. 
Unconscious  though  the  dwellers  in  Eden  are, 
while  this  martial  display  of  heavenly  power 
against  Satanic  blazes  forth  beside  their  bower, 
the  scene  furthers  the  human  plot  by  adding 
impetus  to  our  thoughts  upon  the  origin  and 
growth  of  sin;  Eve's  fall  afterwards  comes  to 
our  mind  with  a  less  abrupt  shock.  From  the 
standpoint  of  God  and  the  heavenly  hosts,  the 
scene  is  significant;  Satan  quails  before  God's 
representatives    and    loses    his    false    glitter    of 

^heroism. J^  The  power  of  beauty  and  of  good- 

"ness  standrsupreme. ^'-^^^^^^^^^ 

Of  less  importance  but  not  less  skilful  are    ^^ 


46      The  Epic  of  Paradise  Lost 

,    a   score   of   minor   episode^   in   Paradise  Lost. 

Y  Satan's  second  entrance  of  Eden,  cautious  yet 
poetical  as  he  plunges  into  the  stream,  perco- 
lates under  the  cliff,  and  rises  in  the  mist, 
whence  he  makes  his  fearsome  way  to  the  ser- 
pent, is  skilfully  depicted.  The  dramatic  scene 
of  Eve's  waywardness  and  coquetry  on  the 
morning  of  the  day  of  the  temptation,  the 
momentous  visit  of  Raphael  to  the  dwellers  in 
Eden,  the  marvellous  bridge  made  by  sin  and 
death  to  facilitate  the  transference  from  earth 
of  their  prey,  the  mysterious  beauty  of  Pande- 
monium rising  like  an  exhalation,  and  the  vivid 
portrayal  of  the-CQuncil^that  therein  assembled, 
are  typical  manifestations  of  Milton's  art  in 
the  use  of  the  devices  of  the  epic. 

There  still  remains  the  most  important  of  all 
the  considerations  for  preferring  the  epic  to 
the  dramatic  treatment  for  the  fall  of  Lucifer 
and  the  fall  of  man,  and  this  is  found  in  the  fact 
that,  unlike  the  usual  epic  story,  where  to  pro- 
mote the  elevation  and  the  importance  of  the 
theme,  the  machinery  of  the  gods  may  be  in- 
troduced at  will,  in  this  case  the  very  plot  it- 

I    self   involves   divine   characters. 

Without  the  account  of  the  part  played  by 
the  gods   in  the  Iliady   the   return   of  Achilles 


OF 

What  is  an  Epic  ?  47 

to  the  battlefield  after  his  reconciliation  with  his 
commander-in-chief  might  be  related.  Al- 
th(mgh^it  |g  true  that  Athena  took  an  active 
part  in  the  death  of  Hector,  her  interference 
Troin   the    standpoint    of   the    theme   might    be  ^ 

reHuceHT:©  the  statement  that  "  Hector  became  \ 
confused  and  fumbled  over  his  arrows,  thus  giv- 
ing Achilles  a  moment's  advantage,  and  the 
fatal  dart  sped  to  its  goal."  The  situation  is 
ver J  different  in  the  interdependent  plots  of 
Paradise  Lost. 

In  the  story  of  the  fall  of  Lucifer,  all  of  tKel 
characters  are  parts  of  the  divine  machinery; 
God,  the  Son,  Michael,  Raphael,  Gabriel,  and 
Uriel  marshal  the  force  of  goodness  against 
Lucifer,  Beelzebub,  Belial,  Moloch,  Mammon, 
and  the  force  of  evil.  So  complete  is  the  in- 
fluence here  of  Milton's  belief  in  an  omnipotent 
God  that  he  does  not  speak  of  the  Son  as  de- 
vising any  action  of  Himself,  but  all  of  His 
movements  are  inspired  by  the  supreme  source 
of  all  goodness,  God  himself ;  so  also  are  Mi- 
chael, Raphael,  Gabriel,  Uriel,  and  Ithuriel  vary- 
ing minor  manifestations  of  God.  On  the  side 
of  evil,  Milton  is  consistent.  Lucifer  is  the 
arch  plotter,  all  action,  all  words  of  his  fol- 
lowers take  their  source  in  him,  he  becomes  the 


,-«^ — 


48      The  Epic  of  Paradise  Lost 

omnipresent  force  of  evil,  in  all  hearts  that  are 
open  to  receive  him.  The  plot  of  the  fall  of 
Lucifer  is  formed  of  spiritual  notions  more  6r^ 
less  defined.  Lucifer  is  more  clearly  individ- 
ualised than  God.  But  these  conceptions  are 
more  remote  from  human  life  than  the  gods 
which,  for  instance,  in  the  Iliad,  are  not 
deeply  imbedded  in  the  plot  but  they  are  there 
the  machinery  of  the  epic.  This  difference  be- 
tween Paradise  Lost  and  the  Iliad  must  affect 
the  epic  pitch  throughout.  In  its  remoteness 
from  actual  life,  the  fall  of  Lucifer  is  complete 
and  the  details  of  his  rebellion  can  be  made 
reasonable  only  through  the  skilful  illusion  of 
the  epic;  it  loses  all  possibility  of  visual  repre- 
sentation in  tragedy  except  in  a  most  uncriti- 
cal age,  and  the  epic  is  the  only  literary  form 
that  it   can   reasonably  take. 

Not  only  are  the  devices  of  the  epic  necessary 
for  presenting  the  commanding  figure  of  Satan 
in  his  relation  to  the  mysterious  warfare  of  evil 
with  good,  but  the  deliberation  of  the  epic 
method  is  necessary  for  presenting  a  reasonable 
and  dignified  story  of  his  rebellion  against  God 
and  his  machinations  against  the  dwellers  in 
»Eden. 

The   protagonists   in   the   first   great   battle 


\ 


What  is  an  Epic  ?  49 

meet  again  and  for  a  second  and  more  desperate       \^ 
conflict    in    Paradise;    therefore    the    spiritual     -; 
characters   are  not  like  the  machinery  of  the  v  I 
gods  in  the  Iliad,  in  the  Odyssey,  and  in  the    /   ) 
JEneid,  but  are  the  chief  actors,  for  Adam  and   >--- 
Eve,  the  concrete  human  personalities,  are  more 
acted  upon  than  acting.    Moreover  they  are  not 
so  much  individuals,  in  the  very  nature  of  the 
theme  and  the  plot,  as  they  are  universal  man 
and   woman.        As    in   the   first   great    episode/ 
Lucifer  is  more  individualised  than  God,  so  in 
^the    second,   Eve    is    more    clearly    sketched   in 
personality  than  is  Adam,  but  we  have  not  the   \, 
definiteness  of  an  Achilles,  nor  of  a  Helen — such     / 
is  not  the  poet's  intention.    ^Milton's  theme  is 
exceptionally   universal   and   requires   at   every 
point   an    aloofness    from    realism,   to   preserve 
tne  needed  elevation  and  the  harmony  of  the    ( 
tone.     In  a  plot  representing  universal  human 
experience  this   artistic  harmony   could  be  at- 
tained   only    with    generalised    characters,    and 
only  with  epic  treatment,  j 

Moreover  since  the  interwoven  plots  form  a 
single  transaction  they  should  not  be  separated, 
and  if  the  plots  are  united  the  action  is  too 
long  and  requires  too  many  scenes  for  a  tra- 
gedy.    The  method  of  the  complete  subardina- 


50       The  Epic  of  Paradise  Lost 

tion  of  the  one  plot  to  the  other  has  been 
adopted  in  Adamus  Exsul  by  Grotius ;  in  Adam 
in  BailingscJiap,  by  Vondel;  and  in  UAdamo, 
by  Andreini.  In  these  tragedies  the  fall  of 
Lucifer  is  given  briefly  in  an  opening  soliloquy 
of  the  arch-protagonist.  In  Lucifer,  by  Von- 
del, the  fall  of  man  is  subordinated  to  a  brief 
report,  of  a  messenger  in  heaven^  where  his  tid- 
ings fall  discordant  upon  the  song  of  victory 
of  Michael  over  Lucifer.  In  all  these  tragedies, 
there  is  loss  in  the  characters  and  in  the  action 
of  the  principal  plot,  as  well  as  in  the  subordin- 
ate episode  in  these  points, — Lucifer's  fall  is 
not  complete  until  he  seduces  Eve;  Adam  and 
Eve's  fall  is  not  treated  adequately  without  a 
full  knowledge  of  the  foe  with  whom  they  have 
to  deal;  in  a  soliloquy  it  is  impossible  to  por- 
tray Satan,  the  Prince  of  Darkness,  in  his  full 
proportion,  and^  therefore,  the  action  of  the 
whole  plot  loses  in  importance  and  reasonable- 
ness from  compressing  the  struggle  in  heaven, 
of  Lucifer  against  God,  into  a  monologue  pre- 
/j  ceding  a  tragedy,  whose  scene  is  laid  in  the  gar- 
n  den  of  Eden  and  whose  subject  is  man's  fall. 
i  The  whole  problem  resolves  itself  again  into 

\     an  attempt  to  treat  the  epic  background  and  a 
story  requiring  also  epic  deliberation  and  epic 


What  is  an  Epic?  51 

methods  in  a  tragedy.  The  best  achievements 
of  masters  of  literary  art  indicate  that,  in  prac- 
tice, they  recognised  the  suitable  field  for  their 
art,  just  as  the  artist  separates  his  picture 
from  the  broad  expanse  of  nature,  and  my  con- 
tention is  that  in  the  case  of  man's  fall  the 
whole  story  moved  with  the  epic  scope  or 
dropped  out  of  art  realms  altogether. 


n 

THE  CHRISTIAN  EPIC 

THE  plots  of  the  fall  of  Lucifer  and  of  the 
fall  of  man  either  separate  or  combined 
are  epic  in  character,  for  they  require  the  full 
epic  background  and  the  epic  method.     Indeed 
the  scope  of  these  episodes  includes  the  back- 
ground of  life's  mystery  and  is  no  less  than  an 
attempt  to  present  a  picture  to  our  imagina- 
tion of  the  very  origin  of  that  deathless  strug- 
gle   of   the    evil    and    the    good.     No    attempt 
in   Uterature  demands   more   courage  or  needs 
more    literary    devices    marshalled    to    its    aid. 
The   heavenly   muse,    the   well-nigh    omniscient 
J  narrator,    the    variety    of    minor    episode,    of 
/  metaphor,  and  of  allusion  of  the  epic  type,  are 
Hndispensable.     But    the    greatest    difficulty    of 
all  in  these  plots  is  found  in  the  fact  that  upon 
the  epic  background  there  move  not  ordinary 
human  beings ;  although  two  of  the  characters 
must   typify   human   life.        Indeed   all   of   the 
52 


The  Christian  Epic  53 

characters  except  Adam  and  Eve  are  marvel- 
lous creations  and  play  the  part  of  the  divine 
machinery  of  the  classic  epics.  Moreover  in 
this  case  the  supernatural  characters  are  not 
accessories  to  the  plot,  but  they  are  the  chief 
actors  in  the  story;  for  these  characters  and 
for  this  story  the  epic  form  is  essential.  ^J 

Upon  this  question  of  the  marvellous  In  the 
epic  and  in  the  tragedy  much  has  been  written 
but  more  must  be  said.  A  comparative  study 
of  tragedies  indicates  that  a  tragedy  composed 
of  spiritual  conceptions  is  at  variance  with  the 
underlying  principle  of  tragedy,  with  usage, 
and  with  public  approval  of  what  is  suited  to 
a  tragedy.  In  the  first  place  it  may  be  well 
to  notice  what  has  been  written  by  some  typical 
critics  of  the  past. 

Bossu,  speaking  for  a  large  faction  in  the 
seventeenth  centur}'^,  has  said:  "Allegorical 
presentations  that  would  be  obscure,  improba- 
ble, and  absurd  upon  the  stage  seem  clear  and 
reasonable  in  the  narration  of  the  epic  poet.'' 
Aristotle,  whose  name  has  been  one  to  conjure 
with  for  many  centuries  and  whose  penetrating  / 
common-sense  gives  peculiar  force  to  his  utter- 
ances, has  expressed  it  as  his  judgment  that 
"  It  is  necessary  in  tragedies   to  produce  the 


54      The  Epic  of  Paradise  Lost 

wonderful,  but  that  which  is  contrary  to  rea- 
son is  better  fitted  to  the  epopea.  .  ,  .  Hence 
the  sense  of  the  wonderful  is  excited  in  the 
highest  degree  from  the  agent's  not  being 
seen."  Horace  agrees  with  Aristotle  upon  the 
danger  of  the  loss  of  power  through  the  use  of 
marvellous  details  in  a  tragedy  but  he  is  more 
explicit,  for  he  declares  that  in  his  opinion, 
"  The  soul  is  less  affected  with  what  it  hears 
than  with  what  it  sees." 

Tasso,  who  has  written  at  length  upon  the 
proper  domain  of  the  epic  and  of  the  tragedy, 
states  that  it  is  his  belief  that  trjansforma- 
tions  are  not  suitable  to  a  tragedy.  The 
marvellous  seems  inappropriate  when  bodily  re- 
presented, therefore  the  intervention  of  the  gods 
is  not  suitable  in  tragedy,  but  in  the  epic  this 
device  is  frequent  and  desirable;  for  it  arouses 
wonder  and  admiration  and  aids  the  elevation 
of  the  tone  of  the  epic. 

Boileau  accepts  the  theory  that  the  epic  has 
superior  ability  to  clothe  the  marvellous,  for  he 
says :  "  The  epic  is  loftier  than  tragedy ;  as  the 
treatment  is  longer,  it  must  be  vivid,  spirited, 
.  .  .  every  virtue  is  a  divinity,  a  storm  is  the 
anger  of  Neptune  or  of  Jupiter." 

Dryden   writes   upon   this   subject: 


The  Christian  Epic  55 

**  I  might  also  add  that  many  things,  which  not  only 
please,  but  are  real  beauties  in  the  reading,  would  appear 
absurd  upon  the  stage  ;  and  these  not  only  the  speciosa 
miracula,  as  Horace  calls  them,  of  transformations  of 
Scylla,  Antiphales,  and  the  Listrygons,  which  cannot  be 
represented  even  in  operas,  but  the  prowess  of  Achilles, 
or  ^neas,  would  appear  ridiculous  in  our  dwarf  heroes 
of  the  theatre.  We  can  believe  that  they  routed  armies 
in  Homer,  or  in  Virgil,  but  *  iVe  Hercules  contra  duos^  in 
the  drama." 

These  utterances  from  these  dictators  of 
criticism  have  no  value  except  as  they  bear  the 
test  of  a  comparison  with  the  practice  of  the 
great  masters  in  the  epic  and  the  tragedy  in 
the  past,  and  with  the  verdict  of  modem  an- 
alytical thought.  The  epic  and  the  tragedy  are 
alike  in  treating  important  characters,  in- 
volved in  a  contest  with  powers  beyond  man's 
completed  knowledge,  and  both  the  epic  and 
the  tragedy  present  forcibly  universal  truth; 
the  one  at  deliberate  length,  the  other  with  the 
intensity  of  a  crisis.  The  difference  in  their 
method  is  more  than  superficial;  for  it  proceeds 
from  an  inherent  difference,  not  obvious  at  the 
starting  point,  but  capable  of  a  development 
into  the  extreme  of  the  corresponding  opposite. 

There  are  tracts  where  the  epic  and  the 
tragedy  flow  together,  there  are  numerous 
episodes  that  aid  the  epic  and  that  are  at  the 


56      The  Epic  of  Paradise  Lost 

same  time  not  only  tragic,  but  are  fitting  themes 
for  formal  tragedy.  As  for  instance,  the  fall 
of  Turnus  in  the  Mneid,  and  the  episode  of 
Dido  are  themes  for  a  tragedy;  as  are  also  the 
death  of  Patroclus  in  the  Iliad,  and  the  episode 
of  Clorinda  and  Tancred  in  the  Jerusalem  De- 
livered, In  this  way  the  epic  frequently  par- 
takes of  the  nature  of  the  tragedy;  and  the 
tragedy  also  joins  with  the  epic  in  so  far  as 
it  presents  a  small  portion  of  the  epic  back- 
ground, and  at  moments  of  great  elevation 
where  its  spirit  reaches  the  epic  height ;  but  the 
plot  of  the  epic  could  not  be  thrown  into  a 
series  of  tragedies  nor  could  a  tragedy  be 
transformed  into  an  epic.  For  instance,  in 
Paradise  Lost  there  are  tragic  episodes;  but 
no  one  of  them  is  fitted  to  form  an  independent 
tragedy  and  it  should  remain  as  a  tragic  scene 
in  the  epic  for  its  own  integrity  as  an  incident; 
for  it  is  not  clear  in  itself  apart  from  the  train 
of  thought  elaborated  in  the  epic  entire. 

Not  from  points  of  resemblance  but  of  dif- 
ference can  the  distinction  be  safely  traced  be- 
tween the  epic  and  the  tragedy.  From  the 
fact  that  the  tragedy  presents  a  hero  in  a  brief 
intense  struggle  with  the  great  forces  of  good 
as  in  Macbeth,  or  with  evil  as  in  Hamlet,  and  in 


The  Christian  Epic  57 

Lear;  and  an  epic  relates  the  exploits  of  a  hero 
in  a  contest  more  general  in  interest,  more 
comprehensive  in  its  range,  affecting  a  race,  or 
a  nation,  or  a  cause,  it  may  be  seen  that  tragedy 
is  based  upon  concreteness,  while  the  epic  moves 
from  the  individual  interest  toward  a  common 
interest  for  the  nation,  or  the  race,  and  there- 
fore is  an  artistic  rendering  of  a  relatively  ab- 
stract conception.  From  the  fact  that  the 
tragedy  is  realistic  in  its  intensity,  its  danger 
is  the  narrowness  of  sensationalism,  of  a  pro- 
vincial or  exceptional  realism  that  interferes 
with  its  universality ;  the  corresponding  danger 
of  the  epic  is  too  great  breadth  for  vividness. 
In  its  graphic  realism  or  intensity  of  emotional 
passages,  then,  an  epic  swings  toward  the  tra- 
gedy ;  and  in  all  great  tragedies  there  is  an  up- 
ward sweep  toward  the  epic  where  the  intensity 
of  the  passion  appears  no  longer  the  emotion 
of  the  single  man,  who  faces  his  foe,  but  the 
passion^  of  all  right-minded  men  in  like  situa- 
tion;  the  hero^  then  stands- not  for  the  individ- 
ual, but  for  the  race.^  This  is  an  intensity  of 
passion  that  escapes  the  bounds  of  the  con- 
crete example  into  a  universal  conception  and 

*  But  there  is  here  a  difference  of  degree,  the  hero  of 
tragedy  is  not  so  universal  as  Adam  for  instance;  the 
distinction  is  that  of  any  man  and  of  every  man. 


58       The  Epic  of  Paradise  Lost 

this  is  an  epic  movement.  This  upward  sweep 
of  the  tragedy  is  not  to  be  found  where  every 
man  is  represented  in  his  humour  or  out  of  his 
humour ;  but  where  both  the  characters  and  the 
situation  have  universal  significance.  Tambur- 
laine  may  be  a  human  Lucifer;  but  he  is  un- 
resisted and  the  spectator  is  unconvinced  that 
he  is  not  shown  simply  a  lusus  naturce,  Ham- 
let, Lear,  Othello,  rise  to  epic  moments;  not  at 
the  crisis  of  the  death  of  the  hero,  but  in  the 
intensity  of  the  struggle  of  good  and  evil  that 
to  the  eye  of  the  observer  is  as  clear  a  contest 
as  though  abstract  spiritual  forces  fought  out 
the  battle,  and  no  longer  is  the  sympathy  for 
Hamlet,  Othello,  Lear,  as  individuals,  but  for 
universal  man  who  may  be  thus  beset. 

Beyond  this  degree  of  the  epic  development, 
the  tragedy  cannot  safely  venture  from  the 
realm  of  the  concrete.  Upon  this  opinion  there 
is  an  approach  to  agreement ;  but  Dryden  was 
not  perfectly  consistent.  He  had  a  lingering 
desire  for  lesser  marvels  like  magic  and  spirits 
on  the  stage,  and  Voltaire  and  Lessing  were 
frank  in  their  avowal  of  their  belief  that  such 
marvels  were  both  permissible  and  desirable  in 
dramatic  art.  Voltaire,  impressed  by  his 
study  of  Shakespeare,  has  discussed  the  ques- 


The  Christian  Epic  59 

tion,  at  great  length,  and  has  not  only  declared 
the  ghost  in  Hamlet  a  striking  device,  but  has 
sought  to  imitate  it  in  his  ghost  in  Semiramis. 
Lessing,  in  his  Dramaturgie,  discusses  the 
ghosts  and  asserts  that 

"a  disbelief  in  ghosts  cannot  hinder  the  dramatic  poet 
from  making  use  of  them,  for  the  seeds  of  a  possible 
belief  in  apparitions  are  sown  in  us  all.  It  depends  upon 
the  degree  of  the  author's  art,  whether  he  can  force  these 
seeds  to  germinate  ;  whether  he  possesses  certain  dex- 
trous means  to  summon  up  rapidly  and  forcibly  argu- 
ments in  favour  of  the  existence  of  such  ghosts.  If  he 
has  these  in  his  power,  no  matter  what  he  may  believe 
in  ordinary  life,  in  the  theatre  we  must  believe  as  the 
poet  wills.  '* 

This  skill  to  marshal  arguments  in  favour  of 
his  ghosts,  Voltaire  lacks,  in  the  opinion  of 
Lessing ;  for  "  In  Semiramis,  Voltaire's  ghost 
breaks  over  the  tradition  of  spirits  and  visits 
a  large  assembly,  seeking  neither  shadows  nor 
seclusion."  Moreover,  Lessing  declares  that 
this  ghost  of  Voltaire's  creation  has  no  person- 
ality and  arouses  no  interest  in  his  fate. 

Lessing  lived  in  the  century  that  had  believed 
in  the  efficiency  of  the  struggle  of  Cotton 
Mather  to  suppress  black  art,  and  in  the  ex- 
ploits of  the  Cock  Lane  ghost.  His  opinion 
may  be  therefore  not  other  than  an  interesting 
step  in  the  evolution  of  human  thought.     But 


6o      The  Epic  of  Paradise  Lost 

there  are  grounds  for  believing  that  there  is 
far-reaching  truth  in  his  statement  that  if  the 
author  possesses  "  dextrous  means,"  "  no  mat- 
ter what  we  beUeve  in  ordinary  hfe,  in  the 
theatre  we  must  beheve  as  the  poet  wills." 
There  is  no  doubt  however  that  the  demand 
is  increasingly  exacting  about  these  same  dex- 
trous means  and  as  a  consequence  the  modern 
poet  more  sharply  defines  the  scope  of  his 
dramatic  art  within  which  limits  he  is  to  play 
the  necromancer. 

The  survey  of  the  theory  and  of  the  practice 
of  the  past  and  of  the  present  literary  ideals 
makes  reasonable  the  statement  that  although 
tragedies  have  been  written  in  which  supernat- 
ural forces  play  an  important  part,  still  from  the 
days  of  Aristotle  the  question  has  been  raised 
whether  this  use  of  marvels  is  in  accordance 
with  the  fundamental  nature  of  tragedy,  which, 
by  imitation  of  human  life,  is  to  convince  the 
spectator  of  the  reality  of  what  his  eyes  be- 
hold, so  that  he  shall  be  purified,  through  pity 
and  fear,  from  such  like  passions.  If  any 
question  of  probability  arises,  force  is  lost.  A 
very  great  master  of  his  art  may,  as  Dryden 
and  Lessing  declare,  so  skilfully  introduce  the 
marvellous  that  the  observer  may  be  convinced 


The  Christian  Epic  6i 

of  its  reasonableness,  despite  the  testimony  of 
his  eyes.  However,  through  the  necessar}^ 
brevity  of  the  tragedy  and  on  account  of  its 
visual  presentation,  reasonableness  is  exceed- 
ingly difficult  to  establish  when  marvels  are 
introduced  on  the  stage,  particularly  as  play- 
ing their  part  among  normal  human  per- 
sonages. With  the  evolution  of  critical 
thought,  the  difficulty  increases  and  the  at- 
tempt must  become  exceptional.  In  the 
larger  development  of  the  epic,  with  the  priv- 
ilege of  the  narrator  to  explain  what  the  dra- 
matist cannot  put  into  the  mouth  of  the  actors, 
the  likeness  of  truth  may  be  not  only  more 
readily  attained  and  kept  but  the  epic  problem 
may  be  vastly  aided  by  the  use  of  marvels  and 
of  the  divine  machinery. 

The  anthropomorphic  conception  of  the  gods 
of  Greece  and  Rome  made  their  presentation 
more  possible  in  a  tragedy,  ^schylus  intro- 
duced the  Eumenides  to  struggle  with  Apollo, 
for  the  supremacy  over  Orestes,  in  one  play ;  in 
another,  Hephaestus  binds  Prometheus,  for  his 
rebellion  against  Zeus;  lo  appears  as  his  fel- 
low-sufferer from  the  tyranny  of  Zeus,  and 
Hermes  as  a  divine  messenger;  but  ^schylus 
did  not  have  the  approval  of  public  sentiment 


62      The  Epic  of  Paradise  Lost 

in  his  own  day  in  these  presentations  of  the  di- 
vine in  a  tragedy. 

From  the  anthropomorphic  conception  of  the 
gods,  however,  arises  in  Greece  a  second  type 
of  tragedy  wherein  are  presented  characters 
that  were  of  divine  as  well  as  of  human  parent- 
age. These  demigods  were  sometimes  held  as 
divine,  sometimes  as  human  but  endowed  with 
certain  supernatural  powers.  Herakles,  son 
of  Zeus  and  Alcmene,  was  worshipped  as  a 
god,  but  he  had  human  as  well  as  superhuman 
characteristics.  This  conception  of  the  gods 
as  both  divine  and  human  gives  freedom  to  the 
writer  of  a  tragedy  to  present  marvels,  not  out 
of  harmony  with  the  theory  of  the  tragedy 
to  those  who  accept  such  a  view  of  Herakles. 
Euripides  introduces  this  god  and  hero  in  the 
Madness  of  Herakles,  where  he  appeals  most 
strongly  as  a  mortal  at  the  mercy  of  an  angry 
god;  but  in  Alcestis  it  is  not  with  mortal  but 
divine  strength  that  he  triumphs  over  death 
and  the  grave.  With  less  divinity  and  more 
of  the  preternatural  than  of  divine  power, 
appear  two  other  characters  in  the  work  of 
Euripides:  Medea,  the  daughter  of  the  Sun, 
who  is  a  witch  rather  than  a  goddess,  and 
Helen,  the  daughter  of  Zeus,  whose  wraith  only 


The  Christian  Epic  63 

officiated  at  Troy,  while  she,  for  the  preserva- 
tion of  her  dignity,  was  borne  to  Egypt.  The 
human  side  of  the  demigod  in  all  of  these 
last  mentioned  plays  made  possible  their  pre- 
sentatfon  in  a  tragedy  before  a  Greek 
audience. 

It  is  true  that  at  an  early  stage  both  of 
modern  dramatic  art  and  of  modern  thought,  as 
an  outgrowth  of  the  Christian  Church  services, 
and  of  the  activities  of  the  clergy,  arose  the  mir- 
acle plays  and  later  the  moralities  and  the 
masks,  wherein  God  and  the  angels,  Satan,  the 
seven  deadly  sins,  and  the  cardinal  virtues  ap- 
peared as  sensuou3  realities  and  played  im- 
portant parts.  But  the  purpose  of  these  plays 
was  too  didactic,  the  conceptions  of  the  vices 
and  virtues  either  too  concrete  both  for  good 
taste  and  for  clear  thought,  or  too  attenuated 
and  too  allegorical  to  be  artistic  according  to 
the  law  of  imitation  in  tragedy;  and  not  even 
the  attractive  presentation  of  Everyman  con- 
vinces one  that  the  form  should  be  permanent 
in  dramatic  art.  Whatever  was  of  permanent 
value  in  this  form  of  art  evolved  into  the  epic 
or  into  the  tragedy. 

In  Everyman,  as  in  Peer  Gynt,  we  have  not 
all  men  but  some  men.     The  epic  background 


64      The  Epic  of  Paradise  Lost 

in  Everyman  is  approached  from  the  tragic  not 
from  the  epic  standpoint,  and  for  visual  pre- 
sentation the  abstract  forces  that  the  man 
meets  in  his  last  hour  of  life  might  be  far  more 
effectively  presented  on  the  stage  by  concrete 
pictures  from  human  life.  Indeed  in  so  far  as 
they  are  dramatically  effective,  they  are  too  far 
individualised  for  philosophical  truth.  To  have 
raised  the  individual  toward  the  universal  con- 
ception would  have  been  the  more  effective 
method. 

It  is  not  a  little  difficult  to  remember  that  our 
problem,  of  the  trend  of  the  evolution  of  art 
ideals,  should  not  be  confused  with  a  variety  of 
other  problems  allied  only  by  an  association 
of  ideas.  The  appeal,  for  instance,  to  a  sym- 
pathetic imagination  that  links  us  pleasurably 
with  men  of  other  centuries  and  other  climes  is 
an  experience  to  be  prized  but  not  to  be  con- 
fused with  the  problem  of  the  evolution  of  art 
standards.  The  pleasure  afforded  to  a  sympa- 
thetic observer  of  a  performance  of  Everyman 
is  complex.  The  scene  is  unusual,  there  is  at- 
tractiveness in  the  quaintness  of  the  life  pre- 
sented, there  is  a  stirring  of  reverence  for  ideas 
relatively  universal,  there  is  a  sense  of  respect 
for  the  simple  siicerity  of  the  author,  and  there 


The  Christian  Epic  65 

IS  a  prevailing  charm  in  a  phase  of  art  that  is 
like  mural  decoration ;  but  all  of  these  forms  of 
pleasure  are  aloof  from  the  problem  before  us. 
Everyman  is  surely  a  transitional,  not  a  fin- 
ished art  type,  however  interesting  and  how- 
ever beautiful  it  may  appear. 

Our  conception  of  God  is  not  anthropomor- 
phic and  there  is  a  corresponding  tendency  to- 
day toward  purer  abstractions  in  spiritual 
matters;  but  we  hesitate  to  apply  our  theories 
in  art.  Abstractions,  we  are  told,  are  at  vari- 
ance with  art.  What  then  shall  we  do.?  Must 
there  be  hostility  between  the  trend  of  modern 
thought  and  the  best  development  of  art?  As 
this  question  surely  cannot  be  escaped  it  must 
be  faced  with  courage. 

Although  the  visual  presentation  of  the  gods 
and  of  other  spiritual  conceptions  is  more  in 
keeping  with  the  ancient  world  than  'with  mod- 
ern thought,  we  have  notice  J  that  even  Aristotle 
and  the  contemporaries  of  ^schylus  demurred 
at  the  introduction  of  the  gods  in  a  tragedy. 
We  may  then  form  a  reasonable  hypothesis, 
that  there  is,  in  the  universal  judgment  of  man, 
a  recognition  of  a  principle  of  good  taste  that 
tends  to  restrict  the  visual  presentation  of 
spiritual  conceptions;  and  that  the  difference 
5 


66       The  Epic  of  Paradise  Lost 

between  the  modern  and  the  ancient  art  ideal  Is 
the  growth  of  a  more  sharply  defined  theory  of 
the  possibility  of  the  presentation  of  these 
spiritual  ideas  in  a  concrete  form. 

Voices  from  the  tomb,  ghosts,  talking  statues, 
apparitions,  persisted  upon  the  stage,  for  the 
same  reason  that  anthropomorphic  ideas  of 
God  appeared  in  Grecian  tragedy,  because  the 
people  believed  in  these  manifestations  and 
therefore  the  verisimilitude,  necessary  for  a 
tragedy,  was  not  disturbed ;  and  the  heighten- 
ing of  the  interest  from  the  novelty  of  the 
scene  was  a  gain  in  force.  While  the  belief 
in  these  marvels  was  spontaneous  either  in  the 
mind  of  the  writer,  or  embodied  by  the  author, 
as  a  common  notion  of  his  audience,  the  pre- 
ternatural was  no  defect.  In  the  hands  of  so 
skilful  a  necromancer  as  Shakespeare,  these 
marvels  may  have  given  a  wider  importance  to 
his  work  than  contemporary  superstition  or 
folk-lore  could  conceive;  these  marvels  may 
indeed  have  lent  an  epic  dignity  to  his  work. 
When,  however,  the  marvels  ceased  to  be  real, 
either  to  the  artist  or  to  his  audience,  would 
Shakespeare  have  found  further  use  for  such 
devices?  Would  he  indeed  venture  to  present 
ghosts    and   witches   on   the   stage,   before   an 


The  Christian  Epic  67 

audience    that    were    too    sophisticated   to    find 
reahty  in  such  marvels? 

We  may  safely  infer  from  a  study  of  Shakes- 
peare's local  colour,  from  his  grasp  upon  con- 
temporary thought,  that  he  would  not  dream 
of  presenting  marvels  in  tragedy  that  his  audi- 
ence held  as  incredible;  nor  would  Shakespeare 
sanction  the  tribute  paid  him  by  Lessing,  in 
advocating  the  continuance  of  a  practice  made 
attractive  by  the  amazingly  successful  devices 
of  Hamlet,  Indeed  it  may  be  urged  that, 
deeper  than  the  appeal  to  contemporary  be- 
lievers in  ghosts  and  witches,  in  Macbeth  and  in 
Hamlet  there  lies  an  epical  significance  in  the 
widening  of  the  field  of  action  into  the  realm  of 
the  unseen,  whence  preternatural  machinery  is 
about  to  issue  and  take  part  in  the  contest. 
On  this  score,  students  find  in  these  scenes  rich 
mines  for  thought;  but  shrink  from  their  vis- 
ual presentation  upon  the  stage.  We  may  de- 
light to  listen  to  ghost  stories,  but  we  do  not 
so  willingly  see  them  acted  and  the  ghost  in 
Hamlet  is  a  severe  test  of  the  courage  of  a 
modern  actor;  nor  is  the  device  usually  impres- 
sive to  those  who  have  not  entered  into  sympa- 
thy with  the  play  by  long  study.  The  chances 
are  that  such  students  give  it  an  epical  inter- 


I 


68       The  Epic  of  Paradise  Lost 

pretation  and  do  not  view  the  ghost  simply 
as  a  marvel,  surviving  from  a  naive  and  uncriti- 
cal age.  For  this  reason  Hamlet  at  its  best 
is  not  actable.^ 

r  Since  the  superhuman  is  unsuited  to  a  tra- 
gedy the  theme  of  the  fall  of  Lucifer  is  unfitted 
for  the  stage ;  for  it  is  entirely  composed  of 
spiritual  conceptions,  and  it  demands  elabora- 
tion in  the  epic  form.  The  fall  of  man  is 
nearer  to  the  concrete  domain  of  tragedy  but 
can  be  treated  with  loss  only  in  that  form;  for 
a  difficulty  arises  in  the  emphasis  that  should 
be  thrown  upon  the  abstract  ideas.  Adam  and 
Eve  should  not  be  so  much  individualised  that 
they  do  not  reasonably  represent  all  men ;  the 
contest  of  spiritual  forces  must  be  fierce  and 
strong,  and  that  strength  can  be  presented 
with  dignity  in  the  epic  only,  for  it  requires 
ithe  full  epic  background. 

But  the  objection  will  be  urged  that  there 
is  an  essential  element  of  tragedy  in  each  of 
these  plots,  the  fall  of  Lucifer  and  the  fall  of 
man,  and  that  they  combine  to  form  a  sad  con- 
clusion to  Paradise  Lost,  Is  the  sad  ending 
peculiar  to  the  tragedy  and  excluded  by  theory 
and  practice  from  the  epic? 

^See  Charles  Lamb^  vol.  vi.,  Lucas  Edition. 


The  Christian  Epic  69 

Not  even  do  the  masters,  often  quoted  as  dic- 
tators of  form^  lay  down  a  hard  and  fast  rule 
here.  Aristotle  says  that  "  The  nature  of  the 
epic  does  not  exclude  a  sad  ending."  Bossu 
writes. 

We  cannot,  then,  from  any  of  these  principles  deter- 
mine anything  concerning  the  fortunate  or  unfortunate 
end  of  an  epic  action.  Practice  is,  no  doubt,  in  favour 
of  a  happy  ending.  It  is,  however,  involved  in  the  very 
subject,  the  fable,  and  the  action  of  the  Iliad  that  the 
end  should  be  fortunate  for  the  Greeks.  So  also  in  the 
Odyssey,  the  fable  demands  success  for  Ulysses,  but  in 
the  Thehaid^  unity  of  action  is  marred  by  the  happy  con- 
clusion. In  the  ^neid,  the  fable  demanded  a  happy 
ending. 

Bossu  concludes, — "  Let  the  case  be  how  it 
will,  yet,  I  fancy,  there  needs  a  great  deal  of 
skill  to  give  the  hero  of  the  epopea  a  sad  and 
mournful  end,  which  might  be  received  with 
general  applause."  -^ 

Dryden,  misunderstanding  the  scheme  of 
Paradise  Lost,  thus  comments  upon  Milton: 
"That  his  subject  is  not  that  of  an  heroick 
poem,  properly  so  called;  it  being  the  losing 
of  our  happiness,  where  the  event  is  not  pros- 
perous like  that  of  other  epick  works."  ^ 

» Monsieur  Rene  Le  Bossu's  Treatise  on  the  Epick  Poem, 
made  English  by  W.  J.,  Book  I,  17. 

2  Dryden.     Dedication  to  Translation  of  Juvenal. 


70       The  Epic  of  Paradise  Lost 

The  principles  of  the  epic  require  one  no 
more  than  the  other,  but  precedent  is  in 
favour  of  a  happy  ending;  for  in  the  epic 
there  are  chronicled  the  exploits  of  a  dignified 
and  powerful  hero  and  unless  there  appears  to 
be  exceptional  cause  for  defeat,  it  seems  more 
reasonable  that  he  should  triumph,  but  what 
is  the  nature  of  his  victory?  The  points  first 
to  be  considered  are  these: 

First — that  it  is  possible  to  have  a  perfectly 
correct  epic  with  a  sad  ending. 

Second — that  usage  is  not  in  favour  of  a  sad 
ending. 

Third — that  it  is  harder  to  write  a  success- 
ful epic  with  a  hero  not  prosperous  and  not 
successful  at  the  conclusion. 

In  regard  to  the  usage — which  is  in  favour  of 
a  happy  ending — it  may  be  said  that  in  the 
Iliad,  the  Odyssey,  and  the  Mneid  the  fable 
required  a  happy  ending.  It  is  possible  to 
conceive  of  a  perfect  epic  fable  in  which  a 
happy  ending  is  not  required.  Indeed,  in  the 
Iliad,  the  fable  required  success  of  the  troops 
of  the  combined  Grecian  forces,  but  the  fable 
did  not  demand  the  survival  of  Achilles.  Had 
he  been  fatally  wounded  on  the  battlefield,  the 
convincing  power  of  the  treatment  of  the  theme 


^ 


The  Christian  Epic  71 

would  have  been  unaffected,  provided  his  death 
caused  no  disruption  of  the  forces.  It  is  only 
necessary  that  he  should  slay  Hector  and  that 
the  Greeks  should  be  victorious,  but  it  is  more 
pleasing  that  he  should  live. 

It  is  unnecessary^  for^  the  essential  idea  of 
the  epic  that  the  action  should  emanate  from 
the  hero.  It  is  possible  for  the  action  to  eman- 
ate from  the  resistance  of  the  hero  to  a  foe  whoi 
has  himself  originated  the  action,  as  in  Paradise  \ 
Lost;  all  that  is  required  is  that  the  theme 
should  be  substantiated  in  the  epic.  The  happy 
or  sad  ending  is  only  incidental,  but  the  strug- 
gle of  the  hero  should  not  be  futile  and  a  hero 
may  conquer  even  by  his  death.  !  Indeed,  it 
must  be  conceded  that  although  the  convention 
of  a  sad  ending  is  usual  in  the  tragedy  it  is 
not  a  necessary  conclusion ;  perfect  purification 
of  the  emotions  is  possible  in  Alcestis  ^  and  yet 
the  ending  is  happy,  as  likewise  it  is  in  the  Cid; 
it  is  necessary  that  the  struggle  should  be  fierce 
and  strong,  that  the  hero  should  be  tried  to 
the  uttermost,  but  the  question  of  the  ending 
is  a  convention  rather  than  a  principle,  so  that 
the    theme    be    clear    and    established    by    the 

*  "  For  now  to  happier  days  than  those  o'er  past 
Have  we  attained." 

(A.  S.  Way's  translation.) 


72      The  Epic  of  Paradise  Lost 

denouement.  As  to  the  convention  of  success  in 
the  epic,  it  may  be  well  to  inquire  what  con- 
siderations influenced  its  adoption. 

The  Greeks  in  life,  in  philosophy,  and  in  art 
laid  a  stress  upon  fame,  success,  and  victory, 
that  is  not  in  accordance  with  the  trend  of 
modern  thought.  With  this  emphasis  in  their 
thought,  they  naturally  and  fitly  conformed 
their  art  to  their  ideal,  otherwise  they  could 
not  have  attained  the  "degree  of  sincerity  and 
of  spontaneous  enthusiasm  that  is  necessary  for 
art.  For  the  same  reason  modern  art  must 
preserve  its  sincerity  and  spontaneity  by  the 
same  means; — if  the  Greek  and  Roman  idea  of 
success  is  not  dominant  in  our  philosophy, 
neither  can  it  be  in  our  art.  It  is  true  that  art 
is  imitation — imitation  not  however  of  other 
people's  ideas  but  of  truth  as  we  conceive  it. 

The  Christian  ideal  of  the  sacrifice  of  the 
individual  to  a  cause  is  a  universal  ideal  older 
than  the  days  of  Marcus  Curtius ;  and  the  be- 
lief that  a  hero  may  succeed  "  in  that  he  seems 
r~  to  fail  " ;  that  "  fame  is  no  plant  that  grows 
/  on  mortal  soil,  but  in  Jove's  court,"  alone,  the 
victory  can  be  judged;  that  the  final  judgment 
and  final  reward  are  hereafter,*  are  not  ideas 
^  See  Lycidas ;  Passing  of  Arthur, 


The  Christian  Epic  73 

devoid  of  universal  truth  recognised  by  some 
thinkers  in  different  ages  of  the  world,  but,  to- 
day, emphasised  and  accepted  as  conventional 
forms  of  belief,  by  many  who  avoid  them  in 
practice.  However,  so  long  as  these  notions 
are  prominent  in  our  thought,  not  opposed  to 
the  fundamental  ideals  of  the  epic,  and  capable 
of  arousing  enthusiasm  and  of  carrying  con- 
viction, they  are  not  unworthy  of  epic  treat- 
ment, and  they  must  appear  in  the  epic  written 
in  modern  times,  if  such  a  production  is  written 
at  all.  Contemporary  literary  forms  must  em- 
body modern  ideas ;  a  conventional  epic,  con- 
sciously avoiding  all  that  is  not  classical,  must 
result  therefore  in  failure;  frigidity,  insipidity, 
and  insincerity  will  be  its  doom.  Doubtless  in 
so  far  as  modern  thought  differs  from  that  of 
the  classical  world,  the  effort  to  exclude  modern 
thought  must  be  conscious.  There  is  no  more 
dreary  reading  than  the  self-conscious  eigh- 
teenth-century attempts  in  the  classic  epic. 
As  a  contrast  to  these,  stand  the  Davideis  of 
Cowley  and  Paradise  Lost  of  Milton. 

The  question  of  a  comparison  of  the  ancient 
and  the  modern  epic  resolves  itself  into  the 
problem  of  a  change  of  the  ideas  clothed  in  art 
form,  not  in  the  art  form  itself.     Is  there  not, 


74       The  Epic  of  Paradise  Lost 

however,  a  fundamental  difficulty  that  does  af- 
fect the  art  form — a  difficulty  apart  from  the 
sad  ending,  but  indicative  of  a  similar  funda- 
mental difference  between  ancient  and  modern 
thought?  It  would  be  indeed  significant,  if  an 
examination  of  the  train  of  thought  involved 
would  reveal  i  that  not  only  is  the  fable  to  ex- 
plain the  presence  of  evil  in  the  world  unfitted 
to  tragedy,  but  also  unsuited  to  the  epic  .fprm._ 
To  such  a  conclusion  are  we  tending? 

The  difficulty  in  presenting  modern  abstract 
ideas  in  the  epic  is  independent  of  the  sad  end- 
ing, or  of  the  postponement  to  the  hereafter 
of  the  judgment  of  the  issue.  The  very  real 
difficulty  that  may  confront  any  modern  writer 
of  the  epic  emanates  from  a  different  cause.  Are 
modern  thinking,  modern  sentiment,  and  mod- 
ern taste,  modern  philosophy,  modern  religion, 
and  modern  art,  at  variance  with  the  portrayal 
of  spiritual  conceptions  in  any  form  of  art 
because  they  fall  short  of  the  ideal  and  thus 
are  liable  to  the  defect  of  absurdity  or  of 
irreverence? 

We  have  seen  that  through  the  anthropomor- 
phic conception  of  the  gods,  the  classic  divini- 
ties were  available  in  dramatic  art  and  the  ex- 
ploits of  such  demigods  as  Hercules  were  not 


The  Christian  Epic  75 

opposed  to  the  classical  ideas  of  taste  in  a 
tragedy;  although  from  a  sense  of  reverence 
the  Greeks  objected  to  the  presentation  of 
Apollo  upon  the  stage. 

In  the  classic  epic  no  difficulty  appeared  in 
the  introduction  of  the  divinities  as  characters 
in  the  story  because  the  gods  of  the  Iliad,  the 
Odyssey,  and  the  Mneid  came  from  no  farther 
away  than  Olympus.  In  Homer,  the  fable  is 
veyed  by  a  plot  that  deals  with  individuals, 
.who,  in  so  far  as  they  are  true  to  life,  pos- 
sess universal  human  characteristics — and  by  a 
machinery  of  the  gods,  who  are  on  the  border- 
land of  concrete  personalities  and  are  certainly 
more  individual  than  universal,  more  material 
than  spiritual.  There  is  not  here  therefore  the 
difficulty  that  confronts  us  in  modern  thought. 

The  epic  based  upon  the  two  plots,  the  fall 
of  Lucifer  and  the  fall  of  man,  chronicles  a 
struggle  of  spiritual  forces.  In  such  an  epic, 
dominated  by  spiritual  conceptions  that  are 
given  imaginative  reality  to  preserve  them 
from  the  barrenness  of  allegory,  the  nature  of 
the  spiritual  becomes  an  important  considera- 
tion. The  divine  in  Paradise  Lost,  for  instance, 
differs  from  the  Iliad,  as  the  God  of  Milton  dif- 
fers   from   the   gods    of   Homer; — not    sipping  y 


76       The  Epic  of  Paradise  Lost 

nectar,  half  in  jest,  half  in  earnest  did  the  Al- 
mighty sit  at  ease,  adjudging,  in  material 
things,  victory  to  the  heroes,  but  the  song  of 
triumph  rang  from  the  angels  in  heaven  over 
one  soul  that  repented,  who  came  up  out  of 
great  tribulation,  who  received  the  palm  of 
spiritual  victory  and  entered  into  his  birth- 
right of  ideal  beauty  on  earth  or  in  heaven. 

The  farther  away  from  the  material  life  we 
place  the  world  of  spiritual  conceptions,  the 
more  difficult  it  is  to  grasp ;  divinity  is  not  so 
easily  imagined,  nor  so  effectively  pictured  to- 
day as  it  was  in  the  classic  world  of  Homer  or 
of  Virgil.  For  this  reason  mankind  is  no 
longer  delighted  with  attempts  to  express  in  art 
the  idea  of  God.  With  the  introduction  of 
Christian  notions  arose  a  serious  difficulty,  so 
that  no  longer  is  it  a  question  of  eliminating 
the  supernatural  from  tragedy  only,  but  from 
art   forms   altogether. 

We  may  then  conclude  that  the  classic  free- 
dom in  portraying  divinity  is  not  in  accordance 
with  the  modern  Christian  idea  of  reverence. 
If  the  epic_demands  the  high  seriousness_pro- 
moted  by  the  divinejiachinerj^^^jdiat^can  be 
done  ?  This  question  was  discussed  long  ago 
by   Tasso   and   by   Boileau   among   others.     It 


The  Christian  Epic  11 

was  thought  that  if  the  reader  no  longer  be- 
Keved  in  the  gods  of  the  classic  world,  it  was  a 
violation  of  truth  and  at  variance  with  the 
high  seriousness  of  the  epic  to  introduce  the 
ancient  divinities.  But  if  the  writer  of  an  epic 
banished  the  classic  gods,  what  would  be  sub- 
stituted for  the  divine  machinery?  The  por- 
trayal of  God  and  of  the  angels  was  declared 
irreverent  and  in  bad  taste.  Magic  and  alle- 
gorical presentations  of  virtues  and  vices  were 
attempted,  but  it  was  later  thought  that  the 
epic  suffered  in  dignity,  and  that  these  de- 
vices were  in  time  open  to  the  censure 
of  insincerity.  Should  there  on  this  ground 
be  an  end  of  all  writing  of  epics  .f^ 

Boileau  shows  himself  loath  to  declare  that 
the  epic  must  become  a  dead  form,  no  longer 
possible  to  be  produced,  nor  does  he  sympathise 
with  the  exiling  of  classical  divinities  from  the 
figures  of  speech  and  from  literary  ornament, 
and  he  believes  also  that  the  epic  should  cele- 
brate classical  heroes. -"^ 

^  To  quote  in  brief  his  utterance  upon  the  subject  of 
the  Christian  Epic : 

**  It  is  in  vain  that  recent  authors  attempt  to  lay  them 
[classical  divinities]  aside  with  the  idea  that  saints,  pro- 
phets, and  God  might  play  the  part,  startling  the  reader 
with  thoughts  of  hell,  of  Astaroth,  Beelzebub,  and  Luci- 


78       The  Epic  of  Paradise  Lost 

No  one  to-day  seriously  questions  the  use  of 
classical  imagery  and  allusion  for  the  beauty 
of  poetry  and  surely  any  one  who  should 
gravely  censure  such  a  practice  would  be  consid- 
ered petty  and  narrow  in  criticism;  but  the 
future  of  the  epic  is  not  so  easily  settled.  The 
difficulty  that  arises  from  the  loss  of  the 
anthropomorphic  conception  of  God,  whether 
Christian  or  otherwise,  emanates  from  the  de- 
velopment of  thought  into  purer  abstractions 
and  this  evolution  is  attended  by  a  scepticism 
about  imaginative,  concrete  expressions  for  the 
unknowable  and  indefinable. 

The  attempt  to  present  what  the  author  be- 
lieves is  unknowable  is  fatal  to  that  degree  of 
concreteness  that  is  essential  for  art;  for  even 
the  epic  must  give  abstractions  a  degree  of 
concreteness,  or  they  otherwise  become  rational 

fer.  .  .  ,  What  pleasure  is  there  in  hearing  the  devil 
always  hurling  against  the  skies  his  determination  to 
overcome  the  hero,  and  often  with  God  balancing  the 
victory?"  Boileau  continues,  *'  Some  say  that  Tasso  has 
succeeded,  but  we  should  not  read  of  his  hero,  always  in 
prayer  against  Satan,  if  there  were  not  Rinaldo,  Ar- 
gantes,Tancred,  and  Clorinda  to  interest  us."  .  .  .  *'It 
is  not,"  Boileau  declares,  **that  Christian  poems  should 
be  filled  with  idolatry — but  in  a  common  subject  to 
banish  Tritons,  Pan,  and  Fates  is  to  banish  poetical 
description  from  poetry," — Art  of  Poetry ,  Canto.  III. 


The  Christian  Epic  79 

speculation    only    and    no    longer    are    in    the 
domain  of  imaginative  art. 

Arising  from  this  phase  of  modem  scep- 
ticism, a  species  of  scepticism  inseparable  from 
analytical  thinking,  is  a  lack  of  reverence 
for  dogma,  but  the  presence  of  an  intellectual 
reverence  for  the  infinite,  from  which  attitude 
of  mind  proceeds  a  sentiment  that  is  at  the 
basis  of  our  modern  taste.  All  three  of  these  n/^ 
forces — modern  thinking,  modern  sentiment, 
and  modem  taste — are  opposed  to  naive,  con- 
crete pictures  of  abstractions  because  they  fall 
short  of  the  intellectual  claim  and  therefore  are 
open  to  the  defect  of  absurdity. 

If,  on  the  other  hand,  the  concrete  of  Charyb- 
dis  is  avoided  there  is  peril  to  art  in  the  hol- 
lo wness  of  Scylla, — for  abstractions  pure  and 
simple  become  allegory,  which  is  opposed  to 
the  deeper  reality  of  art.  Indeed  it  may  be 
questioned  whether  allegorical  art  does  not  ever 
lastingly  attract  for  the  something  that  it 
contains  which  is  not  allegory.  Is  not  Bunyan 
great  because  his  characterisations,  which  are  in 
harmony  with  his  allegory,  appeal  to  the  reader* 
as  real,  Hke  characterisations  of  Cervantes,  or 
of  Shakespeare?  No  one  claims  that  the  per- 
fecting   of    Spenser's    deficient    allegory    would 


8o       The  Epic  of  Paradise  Lost 

have  improved  the  Faerie  Queene,  The  work  is 
successful  in  spite  of  the  allegory. 

Upon  this  train  of  thought  Milton  appears 
to  have  pondered  and  he  faced  these  difficulties 
in  Paradise  Lost,  He  avoided  the  barrenness 
of  allegory,  on  one  side,  and  the  seduction  of 
Vi  anthropomorphic  art  on  the  other.  His  early 
drafts  for  a  tragedy  on  the  classic  model  con- 
tain also  traits  of  the  miracle,  of  the  morality, 
and  of  the  mask,  and  indicate  a  necessity  for 
allegory  if  the  theme  is  to  be  elaborated.  By 
the  comparison  of  these  plans  with  the  later 
work  of  Paradise  Lost,  we  discover  that  Sin  and 
Death  are  the  only  survivors  of  his  allegory  un- 
less it  be  the  seven  deadly  sins  of  Andreini  that 
he  has  metamorphosed  into  a  vision  ^  of  the  con- 
crete life  of  the  world  in  the  tenth  and  eleventh 
books  of  Paradise  Lost.  Milton  did  not  favour 
allegory  in  art. 

f Tn  the  progress   of   religious   thought   away 

from  the  anthropomorphic  conceptions,  toward 
purer  ideals,  one  must  pass  through  the  colder 
period  of  philosophical  abstract  analysis  into 
the  realm  of  higher  spiritual  conceptions,  that 
in  turn  present  themselves  to  the  poet  for  scru- 
tiny   to    discern    whether    he    can    clothe    them 

1  See  also  Bk.  X  Lusiad ;  vision  shown  by  Thetis. 


The  Christian  Epic  8i 

in  the  concrete  form  of  art.  The  problem  at 
best  is  difficult  and  may  be  without  solution. 
The  wonder  is  not  because  Milton  failed  in  pre- 
senting spiritual  conceptions  to  a  certain  de- 
gree, but  because  he  achieved  in  his  superhuman 
effort  so  great  a  measure  of  success. 

It  is  not  probable  that  the  attempt  will  be 
made  again  by  a  great  poet  or  artist  to  present 
the  personality  of  God.  Never  again  can  a 
poet  attempt  such  a  task  in  an  epic.  But 
the  future  of  the  epic  may  even  so  be  secure. 
The  time  is  not  ripe  perhaps  for  the  elevation 
of  the  novel  into  a  paean  of  triumph  of  a  worthy 
hero  in  the  spiritual  warfare  common  to  na- 
tions and  to  humanity.  Toward  the  ideal  of 
such  an  epic  we  may  be  moving,  but  such  an 
epic  exacts  from  the  writer  powers  never  yet 
attained  by  any  author. 

The  study  of  Paradise  Lost  brings  proofs 
that  Milton  made  his  way  through  seas  of  per- 
plexity, for  any  minor  artist,  to  the  inevitable 
decision  that  Paradise  Lost  must  be  an  epic 
with  the  double  plot  of  the  fall  of  Lucifer 
and  the  fall  of  man,  an  epic  essentially  of  ab- 
stractions which  should  be  both  philosophically 
clear  and  religiously  and  artistically  concrete, 
through  the  use  of  imaginative  devices ;  neither 


82      The  Epic  of  Paradise  Lost 

naive  on  the  one  hand,  nor  allegorical  on  the 
other.  I  am  not  unaware  of  the  objection  that 
will  at  once  be  raised,  "  Have  you  not  fallen  into 
the  error  of  making  Milton  a  modem  man  and 
not  an  interpreter  of  the  seventeenth-century 
dogmatism  upon  spiritual  conceptions? "  If 
this  be  an  error,  into  such  I  have  in  part  fallen. 
I  believe  that  Milton's  genius  took  a  tinge  from 
the  seventeenth-century  foibles,  but  that  he  was 
too  great  an  intellectual  force  to  be  dominated 
by  the  peculiarity  of  any  century  and  I  rest 
my  belief  upon  his  own  utterances.  Did  any 
man  indeed  whom  we  recognise  as  a  genius  ever 
fail  to  connect  the  stream  of  thought  of  his 
period  with  the  universal  thought  of  man  ? 
That  fact  is  the  source  of  the  chief  interest  in 
the  comparative  study  of  literature.  To  Mil- 
ton's Treatise  on  Christian  Doctrine,  we  must 
first  turn  for  Milton's  utterances  upon  his 
theory  of  evil  and  note  their  relation  to  his 
epic  of  Paradise  Lost, 


in 

"  TREATISE  ON  CHRISTIAN  DOCTRINE  " 

THE  train  of  thought  that  lies  at  the  basis  >^ 

of  Paradise   Lost  may  be    found  in  the  -^k^ 

Treatise  on  Christian  Doctrine  by  John  Milton. 
This  has  been  the  most  abused  of  books,  a 
posthumous  child  of  its  father,  frowned  upon 
by  Lord  High  Chancellor  and  other  dignitaries 
in  the  hour  of  its  birth ;  wrested  from  the  hands 
of  the  printers  and  of  its  timorous  guardian 
and  tossed  aside  to  gather  the  dust  among  neg- 
lected state  papers  at  Whitehall,  and  forgotten 
for  over  a  century.  Surely  the  evil  star  of  its 
birth  has  not  ceased  to  cast  a  malign  influence 
over  its  fortunes ;  for  in  the  years  since  its  res- 
cue from  oblivion,  it  has  found  no  voice  to  ad- 
vocate its  supreme  importance  for  the  student 
of  Paradise  Lost,  More  than  one  reputable 
critic  indeed  has,  to  my  mind,  misquoted  its  ut- 
terances and  apparently  misunderstood  its 
connection  with  Paradise  Lost,  In  the  prose 
83 


84       The  Epic  of  Paradise  Lost 

of  the  Treatise  on  Christian  Doctrine  we  have 
the  root,  in  the  poem  the  flower;  if  the  treatise 
is  not  identical  with  the  epic,  neither  does  the 
root  resemble  the  flower. 

When  Milton  wrote  his  four  drafts  for  a 
tragedy  on  Paradise  Lost,  he  had  not  solved 
the  problem  of  the  relation  of  his  story  to  the 
epic  background.  There  could  be  no  reason- 
able conception  of  this  epic  scope  without  long 
and  careful  trains  of  analytical  thought  which 
had  grown  so  familiar  to  his  mind  that  they 
became  stuff  that  dreams  are  made  of;  and 
they  were  ready  for  the  spontaneous  action  of 
his  imagination  and  emotion,  then  and  only 
then  might  these  rational  trains  of  thought 
pass  into  the  domain  of  art.  The  process  of 
thought  in  a  field  so  vast  as  Paradise  Lost,  and 
so  incomprehensible  in  any  perfected  sense, 
must  necessarily  be  slow  and  cautious  and  years 
must  pass  before  that  magic  bridge  could  be 
trusted,  whereon  benign  or  evil  angels  might 
pass  to  and  fro,  from  the  storm-swept  back- 
ground of  mystery. 

But  the  question  is  asked,  why  talk  of 
dreams  and  mystic  backgrounds;  why  not  con- 
fine ourselves  to  facts  .^^  All  men  admit  that 
the  problem  of  life  is  unsolvable,  why  not  en- 


Treatise  on  Christian  Doctrine  (,85^ 


chain  one's  thought  to  what  can  be  proved? 
The  answer  is,  because  this  suggestion  is  im- 
possible and  ignores  the  inalienable  freedom 
of  the  human  mind.  The  mind  of  man  cannot 
be  confined  to  one  routine;  one  son  takes  his 
spade  and  digs  his  ancestral  acres,  another 
sails  the  seas  to  penetrate  unknown  lands, 
one  man  grasps  his  hammer  and  asks  the  solid 
rock  to  give  up  its  secret,  another  casts  off  all 
moorings  and  tempts  the  dark  unbottomed  in- 
finite abyss,  satisfied  with  nothing  less  than  the 
hidden  roots  of  things.  To  ask  why  one  chips 
the  rock  and  another  skirts  the  impalpable  ob- 
scure, argues  a  lack  of  breadth  of  human  toler- 
ance ;  both  are  honourable  manifestations  of  the 
free  mind  of  man;  all  that  we  can  demand  is 
that  the  treasure  trove  should  bear  the  light  of 
reason,  however  it  transcend  our  actual  know- 
ledge. Here  and  here  only  has  the  questioner 
the  just  right  of  playing  the  examiner. 

Some  eyes  are  skilful  with  the  microscope 
and  others  with  the  telescope;  Milton's  course 
demands  the  long  look  and  the  far  sight.  Be- 
fore Milton  took  his  daring  flight,  he  paused 
and  pondered  long  his  way. 

Between  the  period  of  the  construction  of 
the  schemes  for  a  tragedy  on  man's  fall  and  of 


/ 


/^S6J      The  Epic  of  Paradise  Lost 

the  completion  of  the  epic  of  Paradise  Lost, 
Milton  elaborated  a  theory  of  evil  and  of  its 
relation  to  God's  plan  for  the  government  of 
the  universe.  This  theory  of  evil,  inseparable 
in  its  explanation  from  his  theory  of  good,  was 
written  out  at  length  in  the  Treatise  on  Christ- 
ian Doctrine  which  was  left  in  the  hands  oX 
Daniel  Skinner  and  not  published  in  Milton's 
lifetime.  We  have  no  proof  that  the  composi- 
tion of  this  prose  work  antedated  the  great 
epic.  It  would  indeed  be  probable  from  both 
external  and  internal  evidence  that  he  had  not 
planned  to  publish  this  treatise  at  the  time 
when  he  completed  his  epic.  Paradise  Lost. 
There  are  good  reasons  for  believing  that  the 
idea  of  giving  to  the  world  these  dryer  bones 
of  his  theories  arose  from  his  discussions  with 
such  immature  young  students  as  Skinner,  who 
might  be  easily  confused  in  the  arabesques  of 
fancy  of  the  great  poem  and  needed  to  have 
the  epic  resolved  into  its  original  trains  of 
thought.  Out  of  these  discussions  arose  very 
probably  many  other  bold  interpretations  of 
Bible  texts,  and  explanations  of  ideas  rooted 
in  the  personal  bias  of  experience  or  of  individ- 
uality. With  these  side  excursions  we  have 
nothing  to  do,  but  we  are  to  confine  ourselves 


Treatise  on  Christian  Doctrine/87 } 

to  the  central  idea  of  the  epic,  as  it  is  explained 
by  the  Treatise  on  Christian  Doctrine. 

The  question  before  us  is  this,  if  there  must 
be  somewhere  discoverable  the  philosophical 
basis  for  every  work  of  art,  shall  we  be  justi- 
fied in  concluding  that  we  have  found  the  scheme 
underlying  Paradise  Lost  in  this  Treatise  on 
Christian  Doctrine  ?  And  another  question 
follows  in  its  train?  Did  Milton's  philosophi- 
cal explanation  of  the  origin  and  of  the  persist- 
ence of  evil  predispose  him  to  an  epic  conception 
of  man's  fall?  A  study  of  the  Treatise  on 
Christian  Doctrine  reveals  that  only  an  epic  i 
could  interpret  in  artthe  theme  of  Paradise  ^ 
Lo^f^  and^^daii?OSl  must  bp  r(^^f\r(\o(\  ^s  un- 
sm'tpd  to^thf"  fnrm  of  tragprly  bnf  if  reasonably 
stands  as  an  essential  episode  of  a  Christian 
epic.  While  it  is  true  that  tragic  episodes, 
like  the  story  of  Dido,  of  Tumus,  of  Clorinda 
and  Tancred,  are  common  in  great  epics  and 
frequently  lend  themselves  to  successful  treat- 
ment in  an  independent  tragedy,  according  to 
Milton's  belief  this  disposal  is  not  possible  of 
the  tragic  theme  of  man's  fall.  Not  Adam's 
fall  but  Christ's  triumph  is  the  underlying  ' 
motive  in  Milton's  work ;  for  this  reason,  man^s 
fall  cannot  be  presented  apart  from  the  com- 


88  '     The  Epic  of  Paradise  Lost 

plete  train  of  thought  which  may  resolve  itself 
into  the  two  epic  episodes  of  the  contest  of 
good  and  evil  in  heaven,  and  on  earth.  Our 
line  of  investigation  in  the  Treatise  on  Christ- 
ian Doctrine  leads  us  to  nothing  less  than  the 
whole  epic  background,  a  field  where  no  man 
can  dogmatise;  but  by  examination  of  his 
thought  and  by  a  comparison  with  other  men's 
thought,  he  may  say  only  "  this  appears  to  me 
to  be  reasonable." 

In   Milton's   thoughts   upon   this   epic  back- 
ground of  mystery,  in  the  relation  of  the  forces 
of  good  and  of  evil,  there  are  indications  that 
he  turned  over  the  writings  of  the  early  Christ- 
ian Church  fathers,  particularly  of  St.  Augus- 
tine ;    that    he    culled    from    the   Bible   phrases 
^.     ji      that  he  set  together  with  more  than  a  touch 
€^x^        of  the  rational  freedom  of  the  higher  criticism, 
V  1^         and  he  welded  all  together  with  the  spirit  of 
^^^        ""Plato. 

In  extracting  from  the  Treatise  on  Christian 

^  Treatise  on  Christian  Doctrine,  Book  I.,  volume  IV., 
Milton's  Prose  Works,  Chas.  R.  Summer;  Treatise  on 
Christian  Doctrine  discovered  among  state  papers  in 
Middle  Treasury  Gallery,  Whitehall,  1823.  MS.  deUv- 
ered  to  Sir  Joseph  Williamson  about  1676.  Summary  of 
all  points  touched  upon  in  Paradise  Lost  is  given  in  this 
essay. 


•C 


Treatise  on  Christian  Doctrin 


ine^ 


Doctrine  a  brief  summary  of  the  thought  that 
touches  the  problem  of  Paradise  Lost,  it  will 
be  valuable  to  cite  other  prose  utterances  of 
Milton  that  throw  light  upon  the  same  problem 
of  the  existence  of  evil.  Such  quotations  may 
be  made  from  the  Areopagitica,  from  the  pre- 
face to  the  second  part  of  The  Reason  of 
Church  Government  urged  against  Frelaty, 
and  from  his  epistles. 

In  the  Treatise  on  Christian  Doctrine  there 
cannot  be  other  than  deep  interest  for  us  in 
the  picture  that  Milton  has  constructed  of  the 
universe;  of  its  relation  to  God,  and  of  the 
Creator  to  his  handiwork ;  and  of  an  all- wise 
and  all-powerful  God^s  part  in  the  origin  of 
evil  and  in  its  continuance  in  a  world  that  was 
created  perfect. 

Milton  conceived  of  God  as  infinite,  there-' 
fore  unknowable  and  incomprehensible,  who 
created  all  things.  First,  by  divine  decree,  he 
created  His  Son,  who  was,  therefore,  neither 
coeval  nor  coequal  with  God,  but  as  viceger- 
ent had  divine  power  delegated  to  Him  by 
God. 

Nor  did  God  separate  himself  from  his  crea- 
tion ;  but  remained  supreme  above  all  to  gov- 
ern   the   world:    we    may    quote    Milton's    own 


itaftiffirrrwr^jcc^-: 


/go       The  Epic  of  Paradise  Lost 

words    upon    God's    attitude    in    this    matter: 

' '  He  upholds  and  preserves  the  immutable  order  of 
causes  appointed  by  him  in  the  beginning.    This  is  com- 
monly and  indeed  too  frequently  described  by  the  name 
'^^    of  nature  ;  for  nature  cannot  possibly  mean  anything  but 
'  KK.  i.  *^®  mysterious  power  and  efficacy  of  that  divine  voice 
f^^^^/  which  went  forth  in  the  beginning  and  to  which  as 
'^'""'^    f    to  a  perpetual  command  all    things  have  since  paid 
V4)bedience." 

/X  HoTf  then^id  sin  enter  into  this  perfect 
world?  TKe  answer  is  found  by  Milton,  in  the 
freedom  of^the  will.  To  the^  angels  in  heaven 
was  given  freedom  to  choose  their  own  relation 
toward  God ;  in  a  right  decision  lay  their  bliss 
and  their  true  liberty,  in  a  wrong  choice  was 
entailed  their  downfall  and  their  separation 
from  God.  Lucifer  rebelled  in  heaven  against 
God's  decree  that  all  the  angels  should  wel- 
come the  Messiah  as  God's  vicegerent.  After 
this,  he  was  no  longer  the  angel  of  the  morn- 
ing star,  but  Satan,  an  adversary.  He_sinned 
"from  the  beginning"  [of  sin]  and  became 
the  father  of  all  evil,  and  God  spared  not  the 
angels  that  were  led  astray  by  the  rebel  angel 
but  cast  them  out  of  heaven  into  the  bottom- 
less pit,  whence  they  later  emerged  to  mislead 
the  dwellers  in  the  earthly  Paradise  and  to 
become   the   omnipresent    force   of   evil   in    the 


Treatise  on  Christian  Doctrine    91 

world.     But  the  world  was  not  given  over  to 

Hosts  of  good  angels  stand  as  ministering 
spirits  near  the  throne  of  God  for   ^_ 

/  his  state      \ 

[    Is  kingly  ;  thousands  at  his  bidding  speed,     J 
^  And  post  o'er  land  and  ocean  without  rest ; 

to  l^pr*ornp^Jliip_  g^i^rrli«Ti  fiT^gpTg^jvlP^ man  and 
check  the  machinations  of  Satan  and  his  hosts. 
One  among  the  angels  stood  supreme,  Michael, 
captain  of  the  hosts  of  heaven.  Absolutely 
obedient  from  choice,  the  loyal  angels  were  not 
all-seeing  nor  all-wise;  God  only  could  not  err 
in  insight  and  in  wisdom.  4 

Man  created  in  the  image  of  God  was  the 
crown  of  creation.  Made  a  little  lower  than 
the  angels,  he  might  rise  to  a  place  beyond 
their  destiny  through  the  latent  divinity  of  the 
godhead.  After  man  had  been  tempted  by 
the  foe  of  God,  the  prince  of  darkness  called 
Satan,  and  had  through  a  neglected  tendency 
in  his  nature  become  vulnerable  to  Satan's 
shafts,  he  fell,  but  he  was  not  given  over  to 
the  forces  of  evil.  God  had  not  appointed 
man  to  wrath  but  to  gain  salvation,  and  the 
Messiah  was  to  find  his  enduring  glory  in  the 
overcoming  of  Satan  and  in  the  redeeming  of 


92     The  Epic  of  Paradise  Lost 

man.  Hence  it  was  that  man's  dignity  reached 
its  highest  possibiHty  in  this  tinge  of  re- 
flected glory;  for  he  was  counted  worth  the 
sacrifice  of  God's  self  in  His  Son. 

Through  this  exaltation  man  might  attain 
heavenliy  dignity,  and  emphasis  is  thus  thrown 
upon  man's  power,  through  the  divine  aid,  to 
triumph  over  evil.  The  whole  question  of  tri- 
umph or  defeat  lies  then  in  the  choice  of  man's 
[free  will. 

But  the  question  is  very  old  and  still  very 
new,  why  was  evil  permitted  to  enter  into  the 
heart  of  man?  In  the  Treatise  on  Christian 
Doctrine y  Milton  reasons  thus,  that  God  was  con- 
cerned in  the  creation  of  evil,  in  one  of  two  ways : 

1.  God  permits  the  existence  of  evil  by 
throwing  no  impediment  in  the  way  of  nat- 
ural causes  and  of  free  agents. 

2.  God  tempts  the  righteous,  for  the  pur- 
*•  pose  of  proving  them.     God  is  not  responsible 

for  the  existence  of  sin  in  the  heart,  which  is 
the  cause  of  evil. 

But  why  did  God  permit  man  to  be  liable  to 
sin?  Upon  this  problem,  Milton  in  his  Areo- 
pagitica  wrote  words  that  are  of  peculiar 
interest  as  an  aid  to  the  comprehension  of  the 
structure  of  Paradise  Lost: 


\^' 


Treatise  on  Christian  Doctrine   93 

Many  complain  of  Divine  Providence,  for  suffering 
Adam  to  transgress.     Foolish  tongues  I  When  God  gave       ^  U* 
him  reason,  he  gave  him  freedom  to  choose  :  for  reason 
is  but  choosing,  he  had  been  else  a  mere  artificial  Adam,     j 
We  ourselves  esteem  not  of  that  obedience,  or  love,  or    / 
gift  which  is  of  force.    God  therefore  left  him  free,  set   / 
before  his  eyes  an  enticing  object ;  herein  consisted  his  / 
possibility  of  merit, — herein  the  right  of  his  reward,  the 
praise  due  to  his  abstinence. 

As  interesting  as  these  words  of  Milton 
must  be  to  one  who  wishes  to  penetrate  the 
fundamental  mystery  of  his  epic  background, 
they  do  not  dissolve  the  mists  that  obscure  the 
seeker's  vision.  The  question  arises  at  once  in 
our  minds  how  could  sin /find  any  entrance  into 
the  springs  of  action  of  a  perfectly  good  man? 
Milton  had  evidently  pondered  long  upon  this 
problem  and  from  comparison  of  his  thought 
with  an  utterance  of  St.  Augustine's  in  the 
City  of  God,  the  answer  adopted  by  Milton  can 

be  made  clear.     St.  Augustine  says: 

\ 
For  if  the  will  remained  firm,  in  the  love  of  that  V 
higher  and  stronger  Good,  which  gave  it  light  to  see  it,    \ 
and  zeal  to  love  it ;  it  would  not  have  turned  from  that 
to  take  delight  in  itself,  and  therefore  have  become  so 
blind  of  sight,  and  so  cold  of  zeal,  that  either  Eve  should    j 
have  beUeved  the  serpent's  words  as  true,  or  Adam  , 
should  have  dared  prefer  his  wife's  will  before  God's  / 
command  and  to  think  that  he  offended  but  venially,  if/ 
he  bear  the  partner  of  his  life  company  in  her  offence. 


94     The  Epic  of  Paradise  Lost 

(The  evil,  therefore,  that  is  this  transgression  was  not  done 
but  by  such  as  were  evil  before.' 

The  reasoning  of  St.  Augustine  is  like  that 
of  Milton.  In  Paradise  Lost  Milton  presents, 
with  the  deliberate  method  of  the  epic  episode, 
the  unmistakable  impression  of  Adam's  grad- 
ual drifting  into  danger,  rather  than  that  of  a 
sudden  plunge  of  a  perfectly  sinless  man  into 
evil.  There  was  peril  for  Adam  in  the  freedom 
of  his  will,  if  he  did  not  keep  his  spiritual  per- 
ception undimmed;  for  from  the  defect  of  his 
inner  vision  must  result  a  loss  of  unity  of  pur- 
pose in  his  life;  and  from  these  two  allied  de- 
fects might  arise  the  possibility  of  his  fall. 
An  unworthy  element  in  his  love  of  Eve  did  in 
fact  dim  Adam's  vision  and  did  destroy  the 
unity  of  purpose  of  his  life. 

But  Milton's  theme  in  Paradise  Lost  was  not 

strictly  the  fall  of  man ;  for  the  first  fifty  lines 

of  Book  I.  reveal  that  his  purpose  was  rather 

I    a   fundamental   conception   of   the   struggle   of 

/     good  and  evil  and  of  man's  relation  to  Satan's 

warfare  with  God.     In  the  consequences  of  the 

j       fall,  appears  triumphant  God's  dominion  over 

I  » St.  Augustine,  Owifas  Dei,  413-426,  A.   D.,  Part  II., 

"^^^    <  Creation:  fall  of  Lucifer  and  angels,  fallen  angels  became 

/         /  demons,    formed    fundamental  principle  of   paganism. 

f  Book  13,  Chapter  14,  recounts  the  fall  of  Adam  and  Eve. 


Treatise  on  Christian  Doctrine  95 

the  universe,  and  this  leads  us  to  note  at  length 
Milton's   conception  of  Christ  as  a  manifesta-       / 
tion  of  God's  power.  In  the  Treatise  on  Christ-  1/ 
ian  Doctrine,  Milton  thus  reasons : 

If  man  fell  through  his  own  free  will,  he  also 
may   be    redeemed   through   the    choice    of   his 

""own  free  will  to  accept  the  salvation  oifered  in 
Christy     Beneath  the  religious  tenets  that  Mil- 
ton next  discusses,  there  lies  a  careful  psycho- 
logical analysis   of  the  human  soul.     What  is  , 
the  process   of   salvation?     Christ   as   the   epic \ — 

Tiero  comes  to  free  man  from  his  captivity  to 
the  mallo-n  forces  of  evil.  The  contest  is  a 
spiritual  battle.  Man's  foe  is  now  within  him, 
how  can  the  evil  spirit  be  cast  out.?  It  is 
evident  that  man  must  first  desire  for  himself 
alliance  with  the  forces  of  good  and  put  himself 
in  communication  with  the  leader  of  the  hosts 
of  heaven.  Nothing  then  can  prevent  his  im- 
mediate rescue;  although  he  cannot  be  spared 
the  unpleasant  consequences  of  his  former  fail- 
ure to  be  armed  against  the  foes  of  heaven. 
Like  the  Red  Cross  Knight  freed  from  the 
dungeon  of  Orgoglio,  he  may  have  lost  for  a  ^ 
time  his  pristine  courage  and  beauty ;  but  in 
the  house  of  holiness  his  spiritual  power  will 
come  again. 


9^      The  Epic  of  Paradise  Lost 

Milton  reasons  that  Christ's  salvation  has 
two  phases,  which  he  names,  humiliation  and 
exaltation.  Christ  as  a  manifestation  of  God 
istooped  from  high  heaven  to  rescue  man  and  to 
perfect  the  spiritual  victory  and  He  hesitated 
not  to  meet  the  humiliation  of  death  upon  the 
cross,  but  His  death  released  Him  from  the  need 
of  further  humiliation  and  He  ascended  to  God's 
right  hand  amid  the  triumphant  chants  of  the 
angels.  But  brighter  than  the  glory  of  the 
welcome  in  heaven,  was  the  consciousness  that 
man  had  learned  through  Christ,  once  for 
all,  how  to  defeat  Satan  and  his  emissaries,  and 
how  to  free  himself  when  temporarily  made 
captive.  This  achievement  constitutes  Christ's 
exaltation  and  this  kind  of  triumph  is  the  basis 
of  the  difference  between  the  Christian  and  the 
classic  epic.  The  death  of  the  hero  may  look 
like  failure,  but  it  may  be  his  highest  guerdon 
of  success. 

y  Milton  states  that  there  are  not  only  thus 
the  two  steps  in  Christ's  saving  of  man,  but 
man  must  likewise  traverse  these  two  steps  of 
humiliation  and  of  exaltation  in  accepting  the 
offer  of  salvation.  There  must  be  humiliation; 
for  erring  man  must  humble  himself  before  the 
higher  power  and  acknowledge  his  need  of  help. 


Treatise  on  Christian  Doctrine  97 

By  this  surrender  of  his  pride  may  come  his 
exaltation  through  being  made  participant  in 
Christ's  triumph  over  death  and  sin  and  a 
sharer  in  Christ's  glorious  entrance  into  life 
eternal,  amid  the  rejoicing  of  all  the  heavenly 
hosts.  ^In  this  sense^  Adam  becomes  a  hero  and  ^-JU 
triumphs  over  Satau.  r^  '' 

'But  there  remains  the  question  of  how  man 
may  make  this  alliance  with  Chirst's  his  rescu- 
ing hero.  The  humbling  of  himself  to  beg  for 
help  divine  requires  from  him  repentance  and 
faith.  Through  these  experiences,  his  vision 
is  purified  and  he  regains  spiritual  perception 
of  good  and  of  evil.  By  his  fall  Adam  lost  in-\ 
nocence;  but  by  repentance  he  is  led  through 
the  strength  of  his  hero  Christ  to  a  knowledge  . 
of  righteousness,  and  he  is  still  heir  to  a  place 
I     nigher  than  the  angels.        ) 

Nor  is  there  any  respect  of  persons  in  the 
democracy  of  the  armies  of  the  Lord.  Salva-  -f^ 
tion  is  offered  to  all  men,  Milton  asserts  boldly, 
and  therefore  rejection  of  divine  grace  is  of 
voluntary  choice.  Satan  is  thus  defeated  in 
his  plan  of  corrupting  all  men  in  Adam;  for 
every  man  may  fall  of  his  own  free  will,  ana 
every  man  may  accept  salvation  of  his  own  free 
will.     To    the    strong   in    faith   and   heart   the 


98      The  Epic  of  Paradise  Lost 

spiritual  victory  is  secure;  but  there  is  no 
promise  of  material  success ;  Christ  died  on  the 
cross ;  other  heroes  in  his  army  may  die  in  the 
battle  that  they  win.  1  ^-^^«^ 

Even  without  the  names  of  Christ  or  of  Adam 
the  underlying  truths  here  involved  remain 
reasonable  to  the  general  evolution  of  human 
thought.  They  lie  deeper  than  the  boundaries 
of  nations,  of  religions,  or  of  creeds,  deep  in 
the  general  heart  of  man.  These  are  the  theo- 
ries that  lie  at  the  basis  of  Paradise  Lost,  The 
train  of  thought  of  the  Treatise  on  Christian 
Doctrine  thus  brings  us  to  the  full  epic  back- 
ground of  life's  mystery,  and  the  poetical  con- 
ceptions, created  by  Milton's  imagination  to 
present  the  background,  are  dependent  upon 
the  epic  method.  On  the  Treatise  on  Christian 
Doctrine  alone  may  be  based  the  explanation  of 
the  fact  that  the  fall  of  man  could  find  its  per- 
manent art  expression  only  in  the  form  of  the 
Christian  epic  of  Paradise  Lost, 

Nor  is  this  all — from  a  wider  examination  of 
Milton's  literary  work  there  is  discoverable  a 
strong  epic  bent  in  Milton's  type  of  mind 
which  reinforced  his  choice  of  the  epic  form  for 
Paradise  Lost,  Indeed  closely  allied  with  Mil- 
ton's   conception    of    evil    was    his    theory    of 


Treatise  on  Christian  Doctrine    Q^J 

beauty;  for  Milton  was  a  Platonist  In  his  con- 
ception of  beauty  as  divine. 

Milton  loved  beauty  as  divine  and  his  own 
words  show  how  he  sought  the  vision  of  its 
loveliness,  as  Arthur's  knights  pursued  the 
quest  of  the  Holy  Grail.  Milton  says,  "^Never 
did  Ceres  seek  with  half  so  much  labour  Proser- 
pina, as  I  pursue  this  same  idea  of  beauty,  as 
some  most  admirable  object,  through  all  the 
lorms  and  forces  of  things,  for  the  gods  have 
many  forms," -"^ 

Ideal  beauty,  like  Proserpina,  is  lost  and  has^^ 
become  a  quest.  What  is  the  explanation  of 
its  loss?  The  answer  that  Milton,  the  poet, 
brings,  is  that  evil  is  the  cause  and  that  origin-  ^4 
ated  in  the  world  from  a  bad  choice  of  a  free 
will.  In  the  first  episode  in  Paradise  Lost, 
Lucifer,  the  angel  of  light,  the  most  beautiful 
spirit  in  heaven,  by  an  evil  choice,  became  the 
prince  of  darkness,  hideous  to  look  upon,  the 
father  of  sin  and  death.  In  the  second  episode 
is  depicted  the  idyll  of  Adam  and  Eve,  happy 
in  their  garden  of  wondrous  beauty,  until  an 
evil  choice  destroys  all  beauty,  and  expels  them 
from  the  garden,  as  Lucifer  was  banished  from 

J   < 


heaven 


/    » Milton,  Epistle  VIL  (1637);  written  to  Diodati.  ) 


. /oo     The  Epic  of  Paradise  Lost 
r- 

The  defect  in  Adam  was  a  gradual  dimming 
of  his  perc£p4ion  of  God  and  therefore  of  celes-" 
tial  beauty.  Tohim  Eve  looked  more  desirable 
than  God  and  her  request  became  more  impera- 
tive than  the  Almighty's  command ;  and  so  Adam 
fell.  After  his  fall  he  was  near-sighted,  and 
could  not  see  tRe  approach  of  the  flashing 
wings  of  the  angels  from  afar.  Adam  had 
been  dimly  conscious  of  his  danger  and  he  had 
confided  his  doubts  to  Raphael.  He  confessed 
to  the  angel  that  he  realised  that  he  might  not 
think  clearly,  where  Eve  was  involved;  and 
since  reason  is  free  will,  as  Milton  affirms  in  the 
passage  quoted  from  the  Areopagitica,  there 
was  a  defect  in  Adam's  will,  and  he  might  fail 
\^^  -^^^L-in  the  worship  of  the /highest  beauty.  These 
^j^C  are  Adam's  words  of  explanation  to  the 
angel: 

y    ,  **  .  .  .  yet  when  I  approach 

V     Her  loveliness,  so  absolute  she  seems 

And  in  herself  complete,  so  well  to  know 
Her  own,  that  what  she  wills  to  do  or  say 
Seems  wisest,  virtuousest,  discreetest,  best ; 
All  higher  Knowledge  in  her  presence  falls 
Degraded,  Wisdom  in  discourse  with  her 
Loses,  discountenanc'd,  and  like  Folly  shows  : 
Authority  and  Reason  on  her  wait. 
As  one  intended  first,  not  after  made 
Occasionally  ;  and,  to  consummate  all. 
Greatness  of  mind  and  nobleness  their  seat 


Treatise  on  Christian  Doctrine  /ioi 


Build  in  her  loveliest,  and  create  an  awe 
About  her,  as  a  guard  angelic  plac'd." 

Raphael  replies: 


y 


*'  In  loving  thou  dost  well ;  in  passion  not, 
Wherein  true  Love  consists  not :  Love  refines 
The  thoughts,  and  heart  enlarges  ;  hath  his  seat 
In  Reason  and  is  judicious  ;  is  the  scale 
By  which  to  Heavenly  Love  thou  niay*st  ascend." 

*'  Be  strong,  live  happy,  and  love  I  but  first  of  all 

Him  whom  to  love  is  to  obey,  and  keep 

His  great  command  ;  take  heed  lest  passion  sway 

Thy  judgment  to  do  aught,  which  else  free  will 

Would  not  admit ;  thine  and  of  all  thy  sons 

The  weal  or  woe  in  thee  is  plac'd  ;  beware  I 

I  in  thy  persevering  shall  rejoice. 

And  all  the  blest :  stand  fast ;  to  stand  or  fall 

Free  in  thine  own  arbitrament  it  lies  ; 

Perfect  within,  no  outward  aid  require, 

And  all  temptation  to  transgress  repel." 

But  Adam  does  not  take  the  warning  of  the' 
angel.  Eve  is  near,  God  seems  afar;  and  her 
loveliness  for  the  time  overshadows  the  radi- 
ance of  God  rather  than  appears  as  an  ex- 
pression of  celestial  beauty.  Thus  Ad^-ih  falls. 
Still,  after  the  fall,  the  force  crf'-goo^  ii^  Adaai 
is  stronger  than  the  power  of  ^'eviL  .MI^  dpje?^' 
not  continue  to  choose  evil.  He  finds  no  joy 
in  sin ;  he  mourns  his  lost  perception  of  divine 
beauty,  and  longs  for  forgiveness  and  peace 
with  God,  not   so  much   from   fear  of  punish- 


I02     The  Epic  of  Paradise  Lost 

ment,  as  from  a  sense  of  anguish  in  the  loss  of 

righteousness,  which  means  a  corresponding  loss 

of  perception  of  spiritual  beauty.     Ever  after 

the  fall,  there  is  a  sharp  struggle  between  the 

forces    of   evil   and   of   good   within   him.       By 

painful  effort,  only,  can  he  return  to  that  happy 

state, — 

Where  love  is  an  unerring  light 
And  joy  its  own  security.* 

Beauty  is  lost  by  choice,  but  if  one  chooses 
may  one  regain  the  priceless  boon?  and  the 
answer  of  Milton  as  philosopher  and  poet  is, 
"  Yes."  But  the  upward  path  is  toilsome.  A 
series  of  choices  marks  the  upward,  as  the 
downward  way. 

Lucifer,  fallen,  bereft  of  his  beauty  and  of 
his  heavenly  name,  continues  to  make  evil 
choices.  He  will  never  submit  to  the  will  of 
(  God,  through  which  alone,  Milton  says,  is  per- 
fect freedom..  The  curse  upon  evil  is  continu- 
ance 111  eyil<£^iid,  after  a  time,  the  loss  of  power 
to  ,  c^QOSCc  aaiything  but  evil.^  When  Satan 
i.ilrls  his  defiaiic^e  at  the  beams  of  the  sun,  hates 
God's  goodness  and  mercy,  and  falls  into  con- 
tortions  of  dark  passions   on   seeing  Paradise, 

*  Wordsworth,  Ode  to  Duty, 
I  *  See  Shelley ,  Prometheus  Unbound,  Act  I.  ; 


Treatise  on  Christian  Doctrine  103 

we  are  prepared  to  hear  that  his  form  has  lost        \ 
*^^  all   her   original   brightness  " :   to   see   him   a  ^^  f 
poor  skulking  spirit  of  darkness   squatting  at 
the  ear  of  Eve,  or  starting  up  at  the  touch  of 
Ithuriel's   spear,   with   an   empty   vaunt   of   his 
past  dignity ;  for  he  is  no  longer  recognisable  to      ^ 
his  former  heavenly  associates.     Nor  is  Satan  ^  / 
ynmindful  of  his  degradation,   for 

abashed  the  devil  stood,  -^ 

And  felt  how  awful  goodness  is,  and  saw  \ 

Virtue  in  her  shape  how  lovely,  saw  and  pined        J 
His  loss.* 

But  the  most  complete  humiliation  of  Satan 
came  in  his  hour  of  seeming  triumph  over  man 
and  God,  a  triumph  that,  in  Milton's  concep- 
tion of  the  plot,  could  be  only  the  darkest  de- 
feat ;  that  the  curse  of  evil  is  continuance  in  ^ 
evil  is  again  emphasised.  Satan  goes  back  to 
his  assembled  followers  in  hell  to  receive  the  ap- 
plause for  his  victory,  when  he  discovers  that 
there  is  no  glory  for  him  that  does  not  entail 
greater  ugliness  and  greater  degradation,  and 
he  falls  headlong,  a  dragon  among  his  hissing 
followers.      - 

In    this    second    episode    that    completes    the 
fable   of   the    epic   of  Paradise   Lost,    there    is 
1  Paradise  Lost,  (Book  IV.,  846-849.)     : 


I04    The  Epic  of  Paradise  Lost 

hope:  Adam  is  not  given  over  to  Satan  any 
more  than  was  Job  after  his  contest:,  nor  Faust 
after  his  ordeal.  Satan,  the  spirit  of  negation, 
in  Paradise  Lost,  could  not  satisfy  the  human 
heart;  this  is  as  much  the  conclusion  of  Milton 
as  of  Goethe.  The  possibility  of  triumph  of- 
j»  fered  to  Adam  through  Christ  casts  in  the 
east  a  glow  of  beauty,  as  Adam  and  Eve  leave 
their  ruined  Paradise. 

Some  natural  tears  they  dropp'd,  but  wip'd  them  soon  ; 
The  world  was  all  before  them,  where  to  choose 
Their  place  of  rest,  and  Providence  their  guide.  / 

They,  hand  in  hand,  with  wandering  steps  and  slow, 
Through  Eden  took  their  solitary  way.* 

V  ^  With  Michael's  report  of  the  promise  of  the 

incarnation  of  Christ  as  a  Son  of  man  and  the 
complete  vanquishing  of  Satan,  the  epic  ends. 
Evil,   loss   of  beauty   came   into   the  world  by 

/F\  u  Satan  through  successfully  tempting  the  free 
will  of  man;  Satan  was  not  triumphant,  but 
condemned  by  his  own  wickedness  to  deep  de- 
gradation. E:xil  may  be  driven  out  by  Christ, 
whose  grace  restores  the  beauty;  but  Christ's 
passion  is. another  plot,  just  as  ^neas's  peace- 
^  ful  reign  in  Latium  is  another  episode  and  a 

\!  sequel  to  th^  Mneid;  but  we  have  been  led  at 

\-  f 

\  *  Paradise  Lost,  (Book  XII.,  end.)] 

V 


-cS 


Treatise  on  Christian  Doctrine  105 

the  end  of  Paradise  Lost  to  the  promise  of  the 
return  of  man  to  his  ideal,  and  nothing  stands 
able  to  defeat  the  prosperous  issue. 
l"    Upon   these   fundamental   principles,   Milton  "^ 
reared    his    thoughts    shaped    by    emotion    and 
imagination  into  literary  beauty.     Adam  could 
not  appeal  to  the  imagination  of  Milton  as  an 
individual  man,  hated  and  entrapped  by  Satan, 
but  as  the  human  race  loved  and  favoured  by 
God:  thus   falling   through  evil,  but  lifted  by      j 
divine  strength. 

The  trend  of  the  changes  from  plot  to  plot  \ 
in  the  four  drafts  reveals  the  nature  of  the  dif- 
ficulties that  beset  Milton,  at  the  outset,  in 
his  attempt  to  cast  this  theme  into  the  mould 
of  a  tragedy.  The  vastness  of  the  background, 
all  heaven  and  earth  and  hell,  demands  the  epic 
grandeur;  the  characters  of  God,  of  the  Mes- 
siah and  of  the  good  angels  resisting  the  at- 
tacks of  Satan  and  his  hordes  of  fallen  angels, 
of  Adam  and  Eve  as  types  of  the  human  race; 
all  this  requires  the  devices  of  the  epic  and  can 
be  presented  by  fragments  only  in  a  tragedy. 
The  whole  train  of  thought  is  interdependent, 
no  part  can  be  adequately  presented  without 
the  whole,  and  the  whole  is  essentially  a  Christ- 
ian   epic.     While    there    may    be    sub-plots    in 


io6    The  Epic  of  Paradise  Lost 

tragedies  there  could  not  be  unity  brought  out 
:  of  two  such  important  interrelated  plots  with- 
out the  deliberation  of  the  method  of  a  novel 
or  of  an  epic.  As  in  the  Odyssey,  the  triumphs 
of  Odysseus  over  obstacles  before  he  reaches 
Ithaca,  and  the  trials  that  he  victoriously  meets 
at  home,  form  the  two  great  divisions  of  the 
unified  epic  theme ;  as  also  in  the  Mneid  the  ob- 
stacles successfully  met  by  ^neas  before  he 
reaches  Latium  and  the  difBculties  that  he  over- 
comes in  Italy  until  he  stands  the  Jtriumphant 
man  of  destiny,  who  by  the  will  of  the  gods 
shall  found  the  Roman  Empire;  so  in  Paradise 
Lost,  the  two  plots,  the  fall  of  Lucifer  and  the 
fall  of  man,  complete  the  epic  unity.  The  ori- 
gin of  evil  in  Lucifer  and  in  Adam,  and  the- 
nature  of  Christ's  triumph  over  evil  in  the  fields 
of  heaven  and  on  earth  is  the  epic  theme;  be- 
yond the  tenets  of  any  one  religion  reigns  the 
ideal  of  God  conquering  evil. 

Milton  has  shown  us  his  experiments  in  the 
form  of  tragedy,  he  has  shown  us  clearly  his 
underlying  train  of  reasoning  that  must  be 
clothed  in  Paradise  Lost,  and  he  has  given,  in 
no  doubtful  words,  his  own  conclusion  that 
man's  fall  was  a  part  of  an  epic  whole  "  not  less 
but  more  heroic   than   the   effects   of  Achilles* 


Treatise  on  Christian  Doctrine  107 

wrath."^  To  the  mind  following  closely  Mil- 
ton's train  of  thought  the  conclusion  must  seem 
not  only  reasonable  but  inevitable,/  and  Para- 
dise Lost  again  illustrates  the  dictum  of  Cole- 
ridge, "  No  art  permanently  pleases  that  does 
not  bear  in  itself  the  reason  for  its  own  form." 
We  must  next  examine  in  detail  those  often 
hitherto  quoted  drafts  of  a  tragedy  upon 
Adam's  loss  of  Paradise. 

»  Paradise  Lost,  Book  IX.,  1-50. 


IV 

MILTON'S  DRAFTS  FOR  A  TRAGEDY 

IN  the  preceding  essays,  there  have  been  fre- 
quent references  to  Milton's  own  drafts  for 
a  tragedy  upon  Adam's  fall  and  we  must  now 
no  longer  delay  the  examination  of  these  very 
significant  early  plans  for  his  life  work. 
What  were  Milton's  reasons  for  his  change  of 
plan?  We  shall  note  the  indications  that  his 
maturer  thought  convinced  him  that  the  theme 
demanded  epic  treatment. 

During  the  years  of  deliberate  and  stately 
preparation  for  writing  Paradise  Lost,  Milton's 
aspirations  for  his  great  life  work  several 
times  found  expression.  There  are  two  of  his 
early  utterances  that  are  particularly  inter- 
esting and  predict  the  donning  of  "  higher 
buskins "  than  could  be  assumed  by  most 
poets.     His  great  poem  was  to  be 

a  work  not  to  be  raised  from  the  heat  of  youth,  .  ,  « 
nor  to  be  obtained  from  convocation  of  Dame  Memory 
and  her  siren  daughters,  but  by  devout  prayer  to  that 
eternal  spirit  who  can  enrich  with  all  utterance  and 
io8 


Milton's  Drafts  for  a  Tragedy  109 

knowledge,  and  sends  out  his  seraphin  with  the  hallowed 
fire  of  his  altar,  to  touch  and  to  purify  the  lips  of  whom 
he  pleases.* 

There  is  here  a  suggestion  of  the  bourgeon- 
ing of  forces  that  he  did  not  yet  himself  fully 
comprehend. 

As  early  as  his  thirty-first  year,  there  are 
proofs  that  he  had  considered  fitting  themes 
for  his  great  work,  but  his  plans  were  not  yet 
clear.  In  Epitaphium  DamoniSy  that,  after 
his  return  from  Italy,  about  16S9,  he  wrote 
upon  the  death  of  his  friend,  Charles  Diodati, 
there  occurs  this  passage, — Milton  had  been  in 
the  habit  of  confiding  in  this  friend  and  he  falls 
very  naturally  into  his  accustomed  confiden- 
tial strain, — 

.  ,  .  but  I,  too — 't  is  eleven  nights  and  a  day  now 
since  I — ah,  I  know  what  large  strain  my  pipe  was  try- 
ing to  sound — I  was  accustoming  my  lips  to  new  reeds 
perhaps:  suddenly  the  fastening  burst ;  the  reeds  flew 
asunder,  unable  to  endure  longer  the  grave  sounds  to 
which  I  racked  them.  I  know  not — perhaps  I  am  over 
bold  ;  still,  I  will  tell  about  it.  Give  way  my  pastoral 
song,  to  a  sterner  theme. 

Go  to  your  folds  unfed,  my  lambs ;  your  master  is 
troubled.  I  am  about  to  sing  of  the  Trojan  ships  that 
passed  along  our  Kentish  coast,  and  the  old  realm  of 
Imogene,  Brut's  wife,  and  the  ancient  chiefs  Brennus 

» Preface  to  second  part  of  The  Reason  of  Church  Oov- 
emment  urged  against  Prelaty  (1641 ) . 


no     The  Epic  of  Paradise  Lost 

and  Arviragus  and  Belinus,  and  the  colonists  who  set- 
tled in  Armorica  under  British  laws.  Then  I  shall  tell  of 
Igraine,  pregnant  with  Arthur  through  the  fatal  wiz- 
ardry of  Merlin,  who  gave  to  Uther  Pendragon  the  face 
and  the  armor  of  her  husband  Gorlois.  Oh  then,  if  life 
is  granted  me,  thou,  my  shepherd-pipe,  shalt  hang  neg- 
lected on  the  gnarled  pine,  or  be  changed  to  shrill  forth 
the  strains  of  my  native  land,  and  the  cry  of  Britons  in 
battle.  Native  strains  do  I  say  ?  Yea,  one  man  cannot 
hope  to  accomplish  all  things.  It  will  be  sufficient  re- 
ward and  honour  for  me,  even  though  I  remain  for  ever 
unknown  and  inglorious  among  the  other  nations  of  the 
world,  if  only  blond-haired  Ouse  shall  read  me  and  he 
who  drinks  of  Alan  Water,  and  the  whirling  Humber, 
and  the  woods  of  Trent ;  above  all,  if  my  Thames  shall 
sing  my  songs,  and  Tamur  mineral-stained  and  the  far- 
off  wave-beaten  Orkneys.* 

The  themes  of  the  Trojans  cruising  around 
the  southern  headlands  of  Britain,  the  early  le- 
gends of  England,  of  Arthur,  Uther's  son,  were 
abandoned  and  were  not  even  mentioned  by 
Milton  in  the  list  of  one  hundred  subjects,  writ- 
ten as  early  as  1641  probably,  preserved  in 
Poemata  Miltoni  Manuscripta,  in  the  library 
of  Trinity  College,  Cambridge.  Indeed  the 
thirty-tl^pa^  subjects  for  "  British  Tragedies," 
in  this  manuscript,  do  not  touch  upon  a  period 
so  early  as  that  of  Arthur,  but  range  from 
the  early  fifth  to  the  eleventh  century. 

The  sixty-one  themes  from  the  Bible  selected 
»  W.  V.  Moody's  translation. 


Milton's  Drafts  for  a  Tragedy  m 

for  a  tragedy  reveal  Milton's  agreement  with 
the  ideals  of  Famianus  Strada.  In  his  fifth 
Prolusion,  which  Milton  undoubtedly  knew,  this 
celebrated  Jesuit  professor  presents  his  eloquent 
plea  for  pure  and  noble  poetry  upon  subjects 
of  universal  interest,  from  the  Bible,  the  won- 
ders of  creation,  and  the  spiritual  life  of  man. 
Milton  has  chosen  eight  topics  from  the  New 
Testament  centring  about  Christ  and  John 
the  Baptist ;  and  fifty-three  from  the  Old  Testa- 
ment. In  early  Jewish  history,  Abram  and 
Isaac  receive  more  or  less  extended  mention; 
but  the  plans  in  the  entire  list  of  one  hundred 
subjects  that  reveal  the  most  care  and  interest 
are  the  four  upon  the  subject  of  the  fall  of  man 
or  of  the  loss  of  Paradise. 

Do  these  drafts  indicate  any  latent  tendency 
in  Milton,  as  early  as  this,  to  write  an  epic 
rather  than  a  tragedy  upon  man's  fall? 
The  first  draft  for  a  tragedy  upon  Adam 
consists  simply  of  a  list  of  characters,  as 
follows : 

The  Persons :  Michael ;  Heavenly  Love ;  Chorus  of 
Angels ;  Lucifer ;  Adam,  Eve,  with  the  Serpent ;  Con- 
science; Death;  Labour,  Sickness,  Discontent,  Ignor- 
ance, with  others.  Mutes ;  Faith,  Hope,  Charity. 

But  Milton  was  discontented  with  this  plan, 


1 1 2     The  Epic  of  Paradise  Lost 

for  the  draft  was  erased  and  written  parallel 
with  it  was  the  second  as  follows: 

The  Persons :  Michael  or  Moses  (Moses  held  as  prefer- 
able): Justice;  Mercy,  Wisdom;  Heavenly  Love;  The 
Evening  Star,  Hesperus ;  Chorus  of  Angels ;  Lucifer, 
Adam ;  Eve ;  Conscience ;  Labour,  Sickness,  Discontent, 
Ignorance,  Fear,  Death ;  Mutes ;  Faith ;  Hope  ;  Charity. 

The  second  plan  was  also  erased,  but  the  third 
is  left  standing  in  the  manuscript,  as  follows: 

Paradise  Lost,  The  Persons : — Moses  npoXoyi^Ei  re- 
counting how  he  assumed  his  true  body,  that  it  corrupts 
not,  because  of  his  [being]  with  God  in  the  Mount ; 
declares  the  like  of  Enoch  and  Eliah,  besides  the  purity 
of  the  place  that  certain  pure  winds,  dews,  and  clouds 
preserve  it  from  corruption  ;  whence  exhorts  to  the  sight 
of  God ;  tells  they  cannot  see  Adam  in  the  state  of  inno- 
cence, by  reason  of  their  sin. — Act  I :  Justice,  Mercy, 
Wisdom,  debating  what  should  become  of  man  if  he  fell; 
Chorus  of  Angels  sing  a  hymn  of  the  Creation. — Act  H  : 
Heavenly  Love ;  Evening  Star  ;  Chorus  sing  the  Marriage 
Song,  and  describe  Paradise. — Act  III :  Lucifer,  contriv- 
ing Adam's  ruin  ;  Chorus  fears  for  Adam  and  relates 
Lucifer's  rebellion  and  fall. — Act  IV:  Adam,  Eve,  fallen; 
Conscience  cites  them  to  God's  examination  ;  Chorus 
bewails  and  tells  them  the  good  Adam  hath  lost. — ^Act  V : 
Adam  and  Eve,  driven  out  of  Paradise,  presented  by  an 
angel  with  Labour,  Grief,  Hatred,  Envy,  War,  Famine, 
Pestilence,  Sickness,  Discontent,  Ignorance,  Fear, 
Mutes,  to  whom  he  gives  their  names  ;  likewise  Winter, 
Heat,  Tempest,  etc.  :  Death  entered  into  the  World ; 
Faith,  Hope,  Charity  comfort  him  and  instruct  him  ; 
Chorus  briefly  concludes. 

The  fourth  draft  bears  the  title,  Adam  Un- 


Milton's  Drafts  for  a  Tragedy  113 

paradised.  Although  the  scheme  is  not  di- 
vided the  plan  naturally  falls  into  five  acts,  as 
may  be  seen: 

Adam  Unparadised:  The  Angel  Gabriel,  either  de- 
scending or  entering, — showing,  since  this  globe  was 
created,  his  frequency  as  much  on  Earth  as  in  Heaven — 
describes  Paradise,  next  the  Chorus,  showing  the  reason 
of  his  coming — to  keep  watch,  after  Lucifer's  rebellion, 
by  command  from  God  ;  and  withal  expressing  his  desire 
to  see  and  know  more  concerning  this  excellent  new 
creature,  Man.  The  Angel  Gabriel,  as  by  his  name  sig- 
nifying a  Prince  of  Power,  tracing  Paradise  with  a  more 
free  ofl&ce,  passes  by  the  station  of  the  Chorus,  and, 
desired  by  them,  relates  what  he  knew  of  Man,  as  the 
creation  of  Eve,  with  their  love  and  marriage. — After 
this,  Lucifer  appears  after  his  overthrow,  bemoans  him- 
self, seeks  revenge  on  Man.  The  Chorus  prepare  resist- 
ance at  his  first  approach.  At  last,  after  discourse  of 
enmity  on  either  side,  he  departs ;  whereat  the  Chorus 
sings  of  the  battle  and  victory  in  Heaven  against  him  and 
his  accomplices,  as  before,  after  the  first  Act  was  sung  a 
hymn  of  the  Crearion. — Here  again  may  appear  Lucifer, 
relating  and  insulting  in  what  he  had  done  to  the  destruc- 
tion of  Man.  Man  next  and  Eve,  having  by  this  time 
been  seduced  by  the  Serpent,  appear  confusedly,  cov- 
ered with  leaves.  Conscience,  in  a  shape,  accuses  him, 
Justice  cites  him  to  the  place  whither  Jehovah  called  for 
him.  In  the  meanwhile,  the  Chorus  entertains  the 
stage,  and  is  informed  by  some  Angel  the  manner  of  his 
Fall. — Here  the  Chorus  bewails  Adam's  fall.  Adam 
then,  and  Eve,  return  and  accuse  one  another  ;  but 
especially  Adam  lays  the  blame  to  his  wife — is  stubborn 
in  his  offence.  Justice  appears,  reasons  with  him,  con- 
vinces him.  The  Chorus  admonisheth  Adam,  and  bids  him 
beware  by  Lucifer's  example  of  impenitence. — The  Angel 


114    The  Epic  of  Paradise  Lost 

is  sent  to  banish  them  out  of  Paradise  ;  but,  before, 
causes  to  pass  before  his  eyes,  in  shapes,  a  masque  of  all 
the  evils  of  this  life  and  world.  He  is  humbled,  relents, 
despairs.  At  last  appears  Mercy,  comforts  him,  pro- 
mises the  Messiah ;  then  calls  in  Faith,  Hope,  and 
Charity ;  instructs  him.  He  repents,  gives  God  the 
glory,  submits  to  his  penalty.  The  Chorus  briefly  con- 
cludes.    Compare  this  with  the  former  Draft. 

In  a  little  space  below  on  the  same  page  with 
the  first  three  drafts  of  Paradise  Lost,  is  jotted 
under  the  heading,  "  Other  tragedies,"  simply 
the  words  "Adam  in  Banishment."  Whatever 
may  have  been  Milton's  intention,  the  fifth 
scheme  did  not  find  fuller  expression  than  the 
noting  of  a  title  used  later  by  Vondel,  for  his 
tragedy,  Adam  in  Ballings  chap. 

The  examination  of  these  four  drafts  for  a 
tragedy  written  some  fifteen  years  before  the 
epic.  Paradise  Lost,  sanctions  certain  conclu- 
sions. It  is  apparent  that  Milton  was  not 
satisfied  with  his  plans  for  a  tragedy,  upon  a 
theme  that  he  afterwards  stated  thus, — 

Of  man's  first  disobedience  and  the  fruit 
Of  that  forbidden  tree,  whose  mortal  taste 
Brought  death  into  the  world  and  all  our  woe, 
With  loss  of  Eden,  till  one  greater  Man 
Restore  us  and  regain  the  blissful  seat. 
Sing  heavenly  Muse.^ 

But  toward  what  goal  does  the  poet  seem  to 
^  Paradise  Lost ,  Book  1, 1-6. 


Milton's  Drafts  for  a  Tragedy  115 

be  striving,  as  he  discards  one  draft  after  an- 
other and,  at  length,  reaches  a  balance  of 
doubt  between  the  last  two  schemes?  He  seeks 
a  better  portrayal  of  the  two  plots, — warfare  j 
against  God  in  heaven  and  against  God  on  I 
earth.  He  is  perplexed  by  the  need  of  an  im- 
aginative presentation  of  truths  that  are  in- 
volved in  doctrines,  creeds,  and  philosophy. 
There  is  apparent  a  latent  realisation  of  the 
difficulties  entailed  by  an  attempt  to  cast  his 
theme  into  the  form  of  tragedy.  With  his 
fine  taste,  he  avoids  the  presenting  of  the  state 
of  innocence,  and  the  sudden  lapse  into  evil  of 
a  hitherto  sinless  hero;  at  the  same  time,  he 
throws  away  the  dramatic  opportunity  of  the 
scene  of  the  temptation.  He  is  conscious  of 
the  need  of  a  clearer  portrayal  of  the  motive, 
of  the  characters,  of  the  dramatic  situation 
^and  action.  The  variations  are  toward  the 
epic  rather  than  to  perfect  a  tragedy,  and  it 
was  inevitable  that  these  changes  should  con- 
tinue until  the  double  plot,  of  the  fall  of  Luci- 
fer and  the  fall  of  man,  should  emerge  as  the 
twofold  episode .  of  a  well  constructed  epic ; 
until  the  philosophical  doctrines  should  be 
clothed  in  the  imaginative  dress  of  the  episode 
and   the   metaphor;   until   the   colourless    stud- 


ii6     The  Epic  of  Paradise  Lost 

les  of  Satan  and  of  Eve  should  stand  forth 
strongly  drawn  personalities  through  the  de- 
liberation of  the  epic  method;  and  the  tempta- 
tion scene  should  become  the  vivid  centre  of 
the  dramatic  action  in  the  epic  of  Paradise 
Lost, 

The  characters  are  indeed  few  in  Milton's 
first  attempt  to  clothe  artistically  his  difficult 
theme  in  a  tragedy.  Adam  and  Eve  are  the 
only  persons  of  any  degree  of  concreteness. 
Michael  and  the  chorus  of  angels  represent  the 
forces  of  heaven,  and  Lucifer  and  the  Serpent, 
the  forces  of  hell.  Besides  these  opposing 
forces,  there  are  ten  purely  allegorical  concep- 
tions, seven  of  whom  are  mutes  to  appear  in 
a  tableau,  or  in  a  pantomine.  This  vague 
scheme,  with  its  preponderance  of  allegory, 
imust  have  been  a  foundation  for  a  morality 
\play  with  some  characteristics  of  the  mask.  *»s^ 
But  Milton's  imagination  was  not  eventually 
attracted  by  allegory,  as  the  epic.  Paradise 
Lost  strikingly  shows.  There  is  an  effort  in 
this  first  plan,  to  attain  two,  at  first  sight,  con- 
flicting ideals,  the  imaginative  concreteness  of 
a  tragedy,  and  the  dignified  aloofness  to '  be 
sought  in  portraying  the  spiritual  conceptions 
common    in    an    epic.     The    reconciliation    he 


Milton's  Drafts  for  a  Tragedy  117 

later  decided  could  be  made  successfully  in  the 
epic,  but  as  yet  Milton  was  to  struggle  further 
with  this  philosophical  and  aftistic  problem. 

Milton's  reflection  upon  his  difiiculties  found 
expression  In  the  type  of  changes  in  the  sec- 
ond draft.  His  subject  is  too  intangible:  he  > 
feels  the  need  of  an  authorised  narrator:  this 
IS  an  epic  tendency.  To  this  end,  as  a  substi- 
tute for  Michael,  he  suggests  Moses  and  holds 
this  change  as  preferable.  No  reason  for  Jhis 
idea  can  be  asserted  from  the  reading  of  the 
second  draft  alone,  but  the  foreshadowings  here 
find  clearer  outline  in  the  third  plan  for  a 
tragedy.  Erring  man  cannot  see  Adam  and 
Eve  in  their  state  of  innocence,  therefore  Moses, 
who  has  been  translated,  is  introduced  as  an 
interpreter  between  sinful  man  and  the  puri- 
fied world  of  the  spirit,  that  he  may  relate  what 
cannot  be  shown  visually  upon  the  stage,  nor 
be  chanted  by  the  already  overburdened  chorus. 
It  is  very  reasonable  to  suppose  that  Mil- 
ton had  seen  the  obscure  seventeenth-century 
prose  Morality  of  Lancetta  and  that  his  at- 
tention had  been  arrested  by  the  opening 
words, — "  One  night,  I  dreamt  that  Moses  ex- 
plained to  me  the  mystery  almost  in  these 
words.''     The  step  from  Moses  as  interpreter 


ii8    The  Epic  of  Paradise  Lost 

is  not  far  to  "  Sing  Heavenly  Muse,"  and  we 
then  recognise  a  device  of  the  epic.-*^ 

In  the  second  draft,  the  grotesque  figure 
of  the  Serpent  is  dropped  from  the  cast  of 
characters,  and  more  machinery  is  added  to 
the  heavenly  forces.  To  the  abstractions  are 
joined  the  divine  attributes,  Justice,  Mercy, 
and  Wisdom,  and  the  poetical  conception  of 
the  Evening  Star,  or  Hesperus.  The  allegori- 
cal elements  remain  unfused  but  the  growth 
is  away  from  the  morality  toward  the  oratorio, 
and  an  epical  tendency  is  here  unmistakable, 
a  tendency  hampered  by  the  concreteness  and 
the  brevity  of  a  tragedy. 

The  trend  of  the  rejected  second  draft  is 
more  fully  explained  in  the  third  plan.  The 
prologue  prepares  the  reader  for  the  revelation 
that  Adam  and  Eve  shall  appear  only  after 
their  fall,  therefore  the  main  action  of  the 
tragedy  is  reported  rather  than  presented  on 
the  stage  by  the  chief  agents  in  the  transac- 
tion. Milton's  artistic  insight  later  grew 
clearer  and  it  led  him  to  conclude  that  he  lost 
the  deeply  dramatic  possibilities  of  his  theme, 
through  an  attempt  to  cast  into  the  form  of 

^  See  in  Poetical  Works  of  John  Milton,  J.  H.  Todd, 
4th  Edition,  Volume  1,  Introduction. 


Milton's  Drafts  for  a  Tragedy  119 

tragedy  what  were  really  the  dramatic  scenes 
of  a  larger  epic  plan. 

A  varied  difficulty  arose  from  remanding  the 
important  scene  of  the  temptation  to  the  re- 
port of  a  messenger  or  an  interpreter.  How 
were  the  personalities  of  Adam  and  Eve  to  be 
portrayed?  What  was  the  motive  for  their 
fall?  How  did  Lucifer  gain  influence  over 
them?  Why  does  not  the  issue  prove  that  the 
prize  was  to  the  stronger?  What  proof  is  there, 
from  the  standpoint  of  the  story,  that  Satan 
was  properly  resisted?  Was  he  stronger 
than  God?  If  not,  has  the  theme  been  ade- 
quately developed? 

There  are  proofs  that  while  he  was  writing 
the  second  and  third  drafts  these  problems  were 
in  the  mind  of  Milton,  but  as  yet  not  altogether 
solved.  Act  I  of  the  third  draft,  which  is 
purely  allegorical,  is  of  importance  in  explain- 
ing man's  free  will,  his  ability  to  stand  or  fall, 
and  his  relation  to  God's  justice  and  mercy. 
This  act  contains  premonitions  of  a  tragic  im- 
port and  the  concluding  song  of  creation  con- 
veys news  that  Adam  now  exists ;  the  forces  of 
good  and  evil  are  ready  for  action. 

In  the  second  act,  the  art  promises  to  be 
purely   lyrical  with   the   freshness   of  the  bird 


I20    The  Epic  of  Paradise  Lost 

notes  in  Siegfried  or  the  song  of  the  shepherd 
in  Tannhduser,  Innocence,  beauty,  joy  are 
here  the  predominating  notes.  The  Evening 
Star  and  Heavenly  Love  sing  and  the  chorus 
takes  up  the  theme  of  the  marriage  of  Adam 
and  Eve  and  of  the  joys  of  Eden.  All  heaven 
is  interested  and  we  must  couple  hell,  as  the 
third  act  reveals,  when  Lucifer  enters,  "  con- 
triving Adam's  ruin."  The  scope  is  epical;  it 
is  too  vast  a  canvas  for  a  tragedy. 

In  the  fourth  act  and  throughout  the  draft, 
Adam  lacks  motive  and  clear-cut  characterisa- 
tion; Eve  suffers  even  more,  for  she  is  simply 
a  lay  figure.  There  is  need  of  the  episodes 
possible  in  a  novel  or  in  an  epic  for  deliberate 
portrayal  of  character.  The  premonitions  of 
man's  fall  are  given  by  the  chorus  in  a  song, 
a  train  of  thought  that  Milton  afterwards  re- 
cast into  the  discussions  in  heaven  of  the  plans 
to  rescue  man,  and  into  the  conversation  in 
Eden  of  Raphael  and  Adam  in  the  fifth  and 
sixth  books  of  Paradise  Lost:  thus  did  Milton 
later  strive  to  justify  the  ways  of  God  to  man! 
Moreover  by  the  brevity  of  the  tragedy  the 
magnificent  figure  of  Lucifer  is  dwarfed,  for 
we  do  not  see  him  the  "  erectest  spirit "  of 
heaven  astonishing  all  by  his  majestic  beauty. 


Milton's  Drafts  for  a  Tragedy  121 

His  dignity,  pride,  rebellion,  and  fall  are  re- 
ported by  the  chorus,  too  great  a  task  as  Mil- 
ton afterwards  decided,  when  he  devoted  all  the 
deliberation  and  all  the  wealth  of  epic  device 
to  his  masterly  portrayal  of  Satan  in  Paradise 
Lost.  Even  now,  when  writing  this  third  draft, 
he  must  have  felt  the  impossibility  of  success 
in  a  tragedy  that  attempted  to  portray  the 
heroic   figure  of   God's   protagonist. 

The  spectacular  pageant  displayed  in  the 
fifth  act  of  the  evil  within  and  without,  "  both 
in  their  life  and  in  the  world,"  is  marshalled 
by  an  angel  and  it  is  Adam's  part  to  stand 
bravely  his  ground,  face  the  grim  spectres,  and 
name  them  with  an  understanding  of  their 
meaning,  though  he  shuddered  at  their  men- 
ace to  the  coming  generations  of  man.  When 
he  has  endured  this  ordeal.  Faith,  Hope,  and 
Charity  minister  unto  him  and  the  tragedy 
ends  with  a  chastened  calm  over  all.  These 
evils  that  Adam  is  compelled  to  name  are,  in 
the  fourth  draft,  caused  to  pass  before  his  grief- 
dimmed  eyes,  "  in  shapes,  a  masque  of  all  the 
evils  of  this  life  and  world  " ;  this  treatment  of 
the  inevitable  consequences  of  sin  is  nearer  to 
that  vision  that  Adam  is  shown  by  Michael  in 
the  eleventh  and  twelfth  books  of  Paradise  Losty 


122    The  Epic  of  Paradise  Lost 

which  in  artistic  method  may  show  the  influence 
of  Camoens  in  the  tenth  book  of  the  Lusiad  as 
well  as  of  Virgil  in  the  sixth  and  eighth  books 
of  the  ZEneid. 

The  predominating  characteristics  of  this 
third  draft  are  more  lyrical  and  epical  than 
truly  tragic  in  the  artistic,  hterary  sense. 
There  is  an  effort,  evident  throughout,  to  re- 
duce a  complex  plot  to  simplicity.  In  this 
respect,  Milton's  work  is  in  sharp  contrast 
to  Andreini's  spectacular  tragedy,  VAdamo, 
There  is  noticeable  in  this  third  draft  of  Mil- 
ton's tragedy  a  classical  reserve  and  dignity 
and  aloofness  from  realism.  The  effect  is  of  a 
stately  and  impressive  spectacle  which  suggests 
a  musical  setting  of  a  religious  type  such  as 
the  Parsifal  of  Wagner,  or  to  be  rendered 
without  spectacle  as  the  Creation  of  Handel,  or, 
better,  to  be  incorporated  in  a  symphony  of 
Beethoven. 

The  fourth  draft  is  the  best  of  the  plans 
made  by  Milton  for  a  tragedy  upon  man's  fall. 
There  is  a  strengthening  of  the  resistance  of 
the  good  and  the  evil  forces  from  the  fact  that 
Moses  disappears  from  the  plan  altogether  and 
prominence  is  given  to  Gabriel,  who  pervades 
the  scenes.     "  By  command  from  God,"  he  not 


Milton's  Drafts  for  a  Tragedy  123 

only  keeps  watch,  "  after  Lucifer's  rebellion," 
but  on  his  own  account  he  feels  a  deep  personal 
interest  in  "  the  excellent  new  creature,  Man." 

Lucifer  is  better  drawn  in  this  fourth  draft 
than  in  the  other  schemes  for  a  tragedy  sketched 
by  Milton.  His  exultation  over  man's  fall  in 
the  third  act  makes  his  antagonism  to  God 
stand  out  more  glaringly.  Adam  and  Eve  are 
more  vividly  portrayed  in  the  fourth  act  of 
this  scheme  than  in  any  of  the  other  plans,  and 
the  consequences  of  their  fall  are  more  realist- 
ically given.  When  Adam  lays  the  blame  for 
his  loss  of  innocence  upon  Eve,  Justice  ap- 
pears, reasons  with  him,  and  induces  him  to  be 
gentle  and  fair-minded. 

The  conclusion  is  also  better  rounded  in  the 
fourth  draft  than  in  Milton's  other  plans  for 
a  tragedy.  Mercy  comes  hand  in  hand  with 
Justice;  she  comforts  Adam  and  brings  him 
promise  of  the  Messiah,  and  thus  strikes  the 
note  of  the  Christian  epic.  Adam  is  ready  to 
go  forth  with  Faith,  Hope,  and  Charity  to 
conquer  evil,  and  in  this  courageous  resolve  lies 
the  triumph  of  the  good. 

The  lines  of  the  tragedy  in  the  fourth  draft 
are  more  strictly  drawn  on  the  classic  model, 
as  may  be  seen  in  the  relation  of  the  actors  to 


124    The  Epic  of  Paradise  Lost 

the  chorus,  not  only  in  the  case  of  Gabriel's  ex- 
planation of  the  affairs  of  Eden  in  response  to 
the  inquiries  of  the  chorus  but  in  the  retorts 
of  Lucifer  and  in  the  answering  notes  of  re- 
sistance to  evil  in  the  chorus.  But  Milton  is 
not  yet  satisfied  with  his  plan  for  Paradise 
Lost,  or  Adam  Unparadisedy  the  process  of  com- 
parison, of  reconstruction  is  still  to  go  for- 
ward. It  is  probable  that  as  the  possibilities 
of  the  theme  opened  up  more  fully  before  him, 
he  realised  that  only  by  meditation  upon  the 
philosophical  basis  of  evil,  upon  the  theories  of 
literary  art  involved  in  the  world's  great  mas- 
terpieces, upon  the  examples  of  great  masters 
in  tragedy  and  in  the  epic,  could  he  build  a 
firm  foundation  for  his  great  life  work.  This 
he  set  himself  to  accomplish  and,  despite  the 
long  interruption  of  affairs  of  state  and  the 
hampering  of  his  work  by  failing  eyesight,  he 
pressed  steadily  on  to  the  goal  of  his 
great  epic,  "  a  work  not  of  the  heat  of 
youth." 

At  least  twice  early  in  his  career  his  pipe 
sounded  "  strains  of  an  unknown  strength/' 
once  in  the  impassioned  burst  of  defiance  ■"• 
Satan    hurled    at    the    sun,    and   again    in    the 

1  Address  to  the  Sun,  1642. 


Milton's  Drafts  for  a  Tragedy  125 

lament  of  Adam  and  Eve  over  their  loss  of 
Paradise. -"^  These  early  passages,  written  some 
twenty  years  before  the  completion  of  the  great 
epic.^  of  which  they  were  the  harbingers,  reveal 
the  two  lines  of  development  upon  which  he 
laboured : 

He  must  depict  the  realm  of  the  infinite, 
pressing  upon  the  finite  world,  and  the  effect 
of  evil  choices  upon  two  natures, — one  defiant, 
impenitent,  exultant,  the  other  not  "  out  of  love 
with  goodness  "  and  bowed  with  human  grief.j 
He  must  attempt  to  solve  the  epical  problem! 
of  God's  relation  to  Satan  and  man  and  the\ 
problem  both  epical  and  dramatic  of  the  char- 
acterisations of  Satan,  magnificent,  individual- 
istic, superhuman,  and  of  the  personalities  of 
Adam  and  Eve  as  erring  and  human,  but  long- 
ing after  God, — definite  and  at  the  same  time 
universal  types.  J^  The  problem  that  confronted 
him,  and  not  a  chance  quotation  from  Lancetta, 
surely  inspired  Milton  to  cast  his  discarded 
drafts  into  the  heroic  mould — but  Lancetta's 
words  have  interest: 

*  Adam's  and  Eve's  lament  over  loss  of  Paradise,  near 
1642. 

*  Paradise  Lost  begun  according  to  Aubrey,  1658  ;  fin- 
ished, 1665.    First  edition,  1667, 


126    The  Epic  of  Paradise  Lost 

God  reveals  himself  to  man  by  the  intervention  of 
reason  and  this  infallibly  ordains  that  reason,  while  she 
supports  her  sovereignty  over  the  sensual  inclination  in 
Man,  and  preserves  the  apple  of  his  heart  from  licentious 
appetites,  in  reward  of  his  just  obedience,  transforms  the 
world  into  Paradise. — If  this  were  true,  assuredly  I 
might  form  an  heroic  poem  worthy  of  demigods. 

To  this  labour  of  Hercules  Milton  turned  his 
hand. 


V 

OTHER  VERSIONS  OF  MAN'S  FALL 

THE  roots  of  Milton's  philosophical  ideas 
upon  the  origin  of  evil  are  to  be  found  in 
the  Bible,  St.  Augustine,  and  Plato,  but  the  ar- 
tistic structure  raised  upon  those  ideas  owes 
its  existence  not  only  to  a  latent  necessity  of 
the  theme,  and  not  only  as  it  appealed  to  Mil- 
ton's peculiar  cast  of  mind,  but  it  also  owes  its 
origin  to  a  growth  in  his  ideal  of  literary  art. 
Was  there  any  aid  for  Milton  in  the  preceding 
literature  upon  Adam's  fall? 

As  all  of  the  world's  great  art  contains  a 
note  of  discord  from  the  warfare  of  good  and 
evil,  or  from  an  effort  to  resolve  this  strife  into 
harmony,  the  possible  sources  of  Milton's  ar- 
tistic notions  upon  the  conflict  of  Satan  with 
God  are  too  broadly  disseminated  to  be  ex- 
haustively traced,  any  more  than  one  could 
separate  an  Alpine  torrent  into  the  drops  of 
rain  or  of  melting  snowflake.  At  the  outset  of 
such  an  investigation  it  must  also  be  borne  in 
127 


128    The  Epic  of  Paradise  Lost 

mind  that  Milton  was  one  of  the  most  learned 
men  of  his  age,  and  of  no  single  fact  then  avail- 
able can  we  say  with  certainty  "  This  Milton 
did  not  know."  Although  there  are  reasons 
for  thinking  that  Milton  was  more  interested  in 
the  ancient  classics  than  in  mediasval  litera- 
ture, he  was  certainly  familiar  with  works  of 
the  middle  ages,  of  the  renaissance,  of  the  pre- 
ceding and  of  contemporary  literature. 

The  field  of  interest  for  a  student  of  Milton's 
Paradise  Lost  very  naturally  narrows  itself 
into  an  attempt  to  comprehend  the  complete 
art  product  that  Milton  strove  to  perfect  in 
Paradise  Lost,  and  the  details  are  of  import- 
ance only  in  their  relation  to  the  whole  work. 
There  is  interest  in  the  pieces  of  literary  art 
that  might  incite  Milton  to  a  quest  for  a  fitting 
form :  some  of  these  works  appear  to  be  sources, 
others  parallels  and  contrasts;  some  of  these 
works  might  inspire  him  to  effort  by  their  own 
conspicuous  lack  of  achievement,  by  their  ex- 
cellencies in  fragments  inharmohiously  set,  or 
as  works  of  dignity  and  beauty  on  the  same 
theme,  or  an  allied  theme,  or  on  even  a  con- 
trasting theme,  where  the  problem  of  the  arti- 
ficer might  be,  at  a  given  point,  similar. 

Such  a  study  reveals  that  Milton's  literary 


V 

Other  Versions  of  Man's  Fall  129 

tastes  were  individual.  He  grasped,  after 
years  of  thought,  a  conception  of  the  art  pos- 
sibilities of  the  theme  of  Paradise  Lost :  he  pro- 
ceeded to  elaborate  this  with  every  device  that 
he  could  invent :  he  borrowed  here  a  scene,  there 
an  episode  or  minor  detail:  an  independent 
thinker  as  he  was,  he  brought  himself  into 
harmony  in  the  main,  not  with  rules,  but  with 
the  underlying  principles  of  Aristotle:  he  used 
electively  the  great  classics  and  recast  some 
of  their  beauty  into  his  own  original  mould  but 
it  was  all  changed;  for  there  was  little  that  he 
touched  that  he  did  not  Miltonise  into  some- 
thing strange  and  new,  with  something  of 
sterner,  loftier  beauty  than  it  had  known 
before. 

The  mythological  fragments,  the  details  of 
cosmogony,  and  the  folk  tales  upon  man's  fall 
were  crude  and  inartistic  at  best.  The  works  of 
theologians  and  the  semi-popular  treatises  of  the 
church  fathers  were,  in  the  main,  no  more  than 
raw  material  for  future  thought,  that  might  in 
turn  become  a  basis  of  art.  The  process  of 
evolution  was  long  and  varied  before  clear-cut 
characterisation  and  dramatic  fire  vivified  the 
story  and  it  rose  into  the  domain  of  art: 
genius   shed  its   light  over  the  possibilities   of 


I30    The  Epic  of  Paradise  Lost 

the  theme  and  heightened  it  to  the  majesty  of 
beauty  and  deepened  it  to  pathos.  The  poet's 
voice  wakened  the  echoes  of  universal  human 
experience,  and  the  world  saw  the  consumma- 
tion of  the  theme  in  Paradise  Lost. 

The  poetical  version  of  Genesis,  long  at- 
tributed to  Juvencus,  in  the  early  part  of  the 
fourth  century,  but  now  believed  to  be  the  work 
of  Cyprianus,  attained  no  conception  of  the 
dramatic  possibilities  of  the  scene  of  the  temp- 
tation and  the  fall.  The  poet  was  far  more 
interested  in  nicely  turned  Virgilian  lines,  in 
pretty  conceits,  than  he  was  in  creating  a  work 
that  would  adequately  clothe  an  important 
theme. 

There  is  more  literary  art  form  in  the  works 
of  Prudentius,  a  later  fourth-century  clerical 
writer.  His  work  however  is  not  at  all  important 
for  any  appreciation  that  he  shows  of  the  pos- 
sibility of  the  theme  of  man's  fall,  which  he  has 
treated  rather  weakly  in  the  Dittochoeon,  but 
for  his  literary  sense  in  the  treatment  of  the 
general  theme  of  the  contest  of  good  and  evil. 

In  the  Hamartigenia,  he  discusses  the  origin 
of  evil  and  powerfully  depicts  Satan  under  the 
influence  of  his  ruling  passion,  that  is,  jealousy 
of  the  supremacy  of  God.     Of  more  importance 


Other  Versions  of  Man's  Fall  131 

than  this  work  is  his  Psychomachla.  Prudentius 
here  portrays,  in  an  allegory  with  lyrical  and 
epical  characteristics,  the  combat  of  the  soul 
with  the  forces  of  Satan.  One  by  one  the  soul 
overcomes  his  foes  through  faith  in  Christ,  and 
after  the  last  victory,  Peace  and  Faith  advise 
the  founding  to  the  glory  of  Jesus  Christ  a 
temple,  with  all  the  beauties  of  Jerusalem  the 
golden.  In  the  conclusion  of  his  epic  Pruden- 
tius looks  forward  hopefully  to  the  day  when 
the  good  shall  triumph  over  the  evil  in  all 
hearts, — a  promise  of  a  regaining  of  Paradise. 
Prudentius  is  important  in  the  development  of 
the  theme  of  the  contest  of  evil  with  good,  from 
the  fact  that  the  literary  sense  predominates  in 
his  work  over  the  philosophical  or  the  didactic 
aim,  and  he  attempts  not  only  to  master  a  lit- 
erary style,  but  to  create  an  artistic  whole. 

For  the  same  reason,  there  is  interest  in  a 
later  church  father  and  poet,  St.  Avitus,  whose 
Latin  narrative  poem,  De  Mosaicce  Historice 
Gestis,  Libri  Quinque,  is  of  the  first  quarter  of 
the  sixth  century.  In  the  first  book,  De  initio 
mundi,  Avitus  describes  with  poetical  feeling  the 
beauty  of  God's  handiwork  in  creation.  In 
the  second  book,  entitled,  De  originale  peccato, 
the  narration  grows  in  dramatic  force.     Satan, 


132    The  Epic  of  Paradise  Lost 

already  fallen,  is  envious  of  the  joys  of  man 
and  declares  that  if  he  is  doomed  to  everlast- 
ing fire,  Adam  and  Eve  must  come  to  share 
the  pain  with  him.  He  disguises  himself  as  a 
snake  and  approaches  Eve,  whom  he  discovers 
alone.  He  without  delay  asks  Eve  to  eat  the 
apple  from  the  forbidden  tree  and  assures  her 
that  she  is  only  denied  this  treat  through  the 
jealousy  of  God:  for  God  fears  that  she,  on 
tasting  the  fruit,  will  become  a  goddess.  Eve 
is  very  easily  won  over  by  Satan  and  takes  the 
fruit:  at  once  the  earth  trembles,  the  snake 
glides  away,  and  Adam  returns.  Eve  urges 
him  to  eat  the  apple,  for  she  insists  that  she 
feels  greatly  benefited  and  she  incites  him  to 
be  as  courageous  as  she  is. 

Adam  yields  with  very  little  resistance,  and 
sadness  falls  upon  them  in  their  loss  of  inno- 
cence. In  the  third  book,  De  sententia  Dei,  God 
comes  to  judge  Adam  and  Eve,  which  book  is  a 
simple  expansion  into  poetry  of  the  Bible  ac- 
count of  the  expulsion  from  the  garden  after 
God's  condemnation  of  man's  sin. 

There  is  in  the  poem  of  Avitus,  in  outline, 
material  for  the  future  work  of  Paradise  Lost, 
but  the  possibilities  of  the  twofold  plot  are  not 
realised;  for  the  warfare  of  good  and  evil  is 


Other  Versions  of  Man's  Fall  133 

not  presented  as  continuous,  and  from  the  lack 
of  deliberation  in  the  art,  the  motive  for  the  fall    ^ 
is  not  adequately  presented,  and  the  character- 
isations of  Satan  and  Eve  are  not  complete. 

As  attractive  as  the  poem  of  St.  Avitus  is  in 
both  its  style  and  movement,  it  is  evident  that 
in  the  subordination  of  the  plots  and  in  clear 
characterisation  it  is  surpassed  by  the  work  of 
a  clerical  writer  of  the  seventh  century.  De- 
spite the  fact  that  controversy  has  broken  about 
the  tenth-century  manuscript  of  this  earlier 
work,  and  the  lines  have  been  asserted  to  be 
not  of  uniform  date  "nor  of  one  authorship,  the 
scene  of  the  temptation  has  not  been  disproved 
to  be  the  work  of  Caedmon.  Beda  states  that  ^'^  i 
Caedmon  was  ignorant ;  however,  he  may  have 
known  St.  Augustine  by  tradition  and  he  cer- 
tainly knew  the  Bible.  In  the  rhymed  para- 
phrase of  Genesis  there  is  poetical  skill  and 
imagination  of  no  ordinary  quality.  The  au- 
thor at  once  grasps  the  conception  of  the  two 
interwoven  plots,  the  fall  of  Lucifer,  and  the 
fall  of  man ;  he  also  seizes  upon  the  dramatic 
possibilities  of  the  scene  of  the  temptation  and 
makes  an  attempt  to  portray  both  motive  and 
personality  in  his  epical  narrative. 

The  paraphrase  of  Genesis   opens   with  the 


134    The  Epic  of  Paradise  Lost 

insolence  of  the  chief  of  the  angels,  who,  lost  in 
admiration  of  himself,  believed  that  he  had  as 
many  followers  as  God,  and  sought  to  set  up  a 
rival  kingdom  in  the  north  of  heaven.  He 
with  his  followers,  was  banished  to  the  misery 
of  perpetual  night,  enhanced  by  intense  heat 
and  cold  in  hell.  Thus  his  vaunt  was  empty, 
his  hopes  shattered,  his  beauty  turned  to  ugli- 
ness. God  now  created  the  world  and  the  earth 
and  the  garden  of  Eden  and  placed  therein 
man  whose  race  should  replenish  the  empty  halls 
of  heaven.  In  a  beautiful  Paradise  Adam  and 
Eve  lived  with  no  evil  desire  and  rejoiced  in 
their  love  for  God.  They  appreciated  the  dig- 
nity of  their  inheritance,  for  to  them  and  to 
their  children  was  giv^n  dominion  over  the  land 
and  the  sea. 

Meanwhile  the  banished  angel,  who  of  angels 
was  once  the  brightest  and  fairest,  now  the 
king  of  hell  and  called  Satan,-*^  has  other  plans 
for  Adam  and  he  addresses  his  followers  upon 
the  subject.  He  confides  in  them  that  he  finds 
his  present  abode  too  narrow  and  that  he  longs 
for  a  larger  kingdom.  He  declares  that  they 
have    been     treated    unfairly;     for     God    has 

*  Notice  agreement  with  St.  Augustine  in  this  distinc- 
tion between  the  names,  Lucifer  and  Satan. 


1 


Other  Versions  of  Man's  Fall  135 

no  right  to  strike  them  down  and  to  plan 
to  re-people  heaven  with  the  sons  of  men,  made 
of  the  dust  of  the  earth.  Satan  longs  for  the 
power  of  his  hands  to  right  matters,  but  he  is 
firmly  chained  and  cannot  free  himself.  It  is 
useless,  he  declares,  for  the  fallen  angels  to 
hope  to  re-enter  heaven,  but  a  plot  may  be  de- 
vised to  extend  hell's  sway  into  the  earth  if 
only  he  may  corrupt  Adam  in  his  will.  "  We 
may,"  he  suggests,  "  turn  the  children  of  men 
away  from  the  celestial  kingdom,  and  cause 
them  to  incur  God's  wrath,  so  that  he  will  cast 
them  down  to  be  our  vassals  here  in  hell." 
Satan  offers  rich  gifts  to  the  daring  one  who 
shall  pass  through  all  barriers  and  reach  Para- 
dise to  accomplish  the  fall  of  man. 

The  bold  emissary  of  Satan  reaches  the 
earthly  Paradise,  enters  a  serpent,  and  twines 
himself  about  "  the  tree  of  death,"  and  here  in 
the  temptation  scene  is  given  the  interaction 
of  the  two  plots,  the  fall  of  Lucifer,  and  the 
fall  of  Adam.  The  peculiarities  of  the  story 
are  the  following: 

1.  He  opens  a  conversation  with  Adam,  not 
with  Eve;  and  he  shows  no  anxiety  to  find  one 
alone,  but  attacks  them  together. 

£.     He  boldly  declares  himself  a  messenger 


136    The  Epic  of  Paradise  Lost 

of  God  sent  to  bring  a  divine  command  to  eat 
of  the  fruit  of  the  tree  of  knowledge,  for  in- 
crease in  strength  and  in  understanding.  Adam 
firmly  asserts  his  disbelief  that  God  has  sent 
any  such  command  for  three  reasons: 

(a)  It  is  opposed  to  the  former  express  in- 
junction of  God. 

(b)  The  bearer  does  not  look  like  any  of 
God's  messengers,  and  may  have  evil  designs. 

(c)  God  is  not  dependent  upon  a  messen- 
ger: he  can  at  will  communicate  directly  with 
Adam. 

8.  The  serpent  now  turns  angrily  to  the 
woman  and  warns  her  of  the  wrath  of  God  and 
the  peril  to  her  husband  and  family,  if  a 
heavenly  messenger  is  sent  away  so  churlishly. 
He  advises  her  to  use  her  influence  to  ward  off 
this  punishment.  He  suggests  that  perhaps 
she  might  set  her  husband  a  good  example  by 
eating  the  fruit,  and  she  could  then  report  to 
him  how  beneficial  it  is. 

4.  Eve,  persuaded  that  it  is  her  duty,  eats 
and  is  cheated  by  such  false  visions  that  she 
is  led  to  regard  the  fruit  as  very  desirable. 
She  urges  Adam  to  hasten  to  obey  God's  mes- 
senger and  to  avert  the  wrath  of  God  for  his 
rudeness  to  his  servant.     She  counsels  prompt 


Other  Versions  of  Man's  Fall  137 

obedience,  "  for,"  she  says,  "  you  know  that  we 
are  dependent  upon  the  angels."  ^ 

This  deceiving  of  Eve  into  sin  is  a  weak* 
point  philosophically  and  artistically  in  the 
narration.  If  Eve  really  were  convinced  that 
the  serpenfwas  a_jdiyine  messenger  and  that 
upon  her  shoulders  rested  the  responsibility  of 
savmg  her  family  from  the  fatal  mistake  of 
distftist>».QfjGod's  messenger,  she  seems  worthy 
of  praise  rather  than  of  blame.  She  does  not 
sin^rom  a  defect  of  will,  but  falls  into  a  mis- 
fortune rather  than  into  a  sin.  This  weakness 
in  the  narration  is  far-reaching,  for  when  Eve 
and  the  serpent  have  followed  Adam  about  all 
day  long,  and  finally,  wearied  with  the  contest, 
he  yields  and  takes  the  fruit,  we  are  not  con- 
vinced of  an  evil  motive  in  either  Adam  or 
Eve,  and  the  punishment  that  follows  does  not 
appear  as  inevitable,  as  art  demands. 

The  question  arises  did  Caedmon  fall  into 
this  mistake  by  the  rapidity  of  his  composition, 
upon  the  details  of  which  He  had  not  sufficiently 
reflected;  or  did  he  intend  to  throw  emphasis 
upon  direct  spiritual  perception  and  to  embody 
the  idea  that  Eve  ought  to  have  known  both 

»  Adam  had  said  that  they  were  not  dependent  but 
could  speak  directly  with  God. 


138     The  Epic  of  Paradise  Lost 

that  this  spirit  did  not  look  like  God's  messen- 
ger, and  that  God  was  not  dependent  upon  a 
messenger;  and  therefore  the  consequence — 
God's   punishment — is   justified? 

In  both  Comus  and  Paradise  Lost,  Milton 
also   made   important   the   possession   of   direct 

\  spiritual  insight.  One  of  the  sad  consequences 
of  the  fall,  in  Paradise  Lost,  is  found  in  the 
fact  that  Adam  cannot  discern  Michael's  ap- 
proach. Before  the  fall,  he  discovered  Ra- 
phael afar.     Milton  also  discusses  the  relation 

^-of  spiritual  perception  to  free  will,  in  the 
Treatise  on  Christian  Doctrine.  If  this  obli- 
gation to  retain  perception  is  Caedmon's  inten- 
tion, the  proofs  lack  clearness  and  become 
conjectures  only,  nor  should  a  point  so  import- 
ant in  the  plot  be  doubtful. 

The  immediate  exaltation  that  follows  broken 
law  is  soon  succeeded  by  despair  in  Adam  and 
Eve.  Shakespeare,^  and  Hawthorne  ^  make 
use  of  this  revulsion  from  triumph  to  humilia- 
tion for  artistic  effects,  and  so  also  does  Milton 
in  his  depicting  the  manner  of  Eve,  when  she  ap- 
proaches Adam  after  her  fall  in  Paradise  Lost, 

^  Macbeth :  Lady  Macbeth  before  the  knock  on  the 
door. 

^  Marble  Faun :  Miriam  and  Donatello  on  the  death  of 
the  friar. 


Other  Versions  of  Man's  Fall  139 

In  Caedmon's  narration,  after  the  fall  im- 
mediate discord  arises  between  Adam  and  Eve. 
There  are  recriminations  and  self -justifications 
until  Eve  speaks  to  Adam  with  sweetness  and 
dignity  and  true  penitence.  Caedmon  depicts 
the  penitence  of  Adam  and  Eve  before  God's 
voice  is  heard,  but  Eve  shows  no  genuine  peni- 
tence in  Adamus  Exsul  until  God  approaches, 
nor  in  UAdamo,  nor  in  Adam  in  B ailing schap, 
nor  in  Paradise  Lost,  When  they  are  sum- 
moned to  judgment,  Milton  represents  Adam 
and  Eve  as  two  sad  culprits. 

Love  was  not  in  their  looks,  either  to  God 
Or  to  each  other,  but  apparent  guilt, 
And  shame,  and  perturbation,  and  despair, 
Anger,  and  obstinacy,  and  hate  and  guile.* 

Through  the  force  given  to  the  two  plots, 
the  work  of  Caedmon  is  conspicuously  good 
among  the  simple  narrative  versions  of  the 
origin  of  sin,  but  there  is  need  of  a  better  bal- 
ance of  the  celestial  machinery  in  the  second 
plot  to  make  the  resistance  to  evil  more  com- 
plete and  to  justify  the  outcome  of  the  scene 
of  the  temptation.  A  more  adequate  por- 
trayal of  the  divine  interest  in  man  and  a 
clearer  characterisation  of  Eve  would  dispel 
>  Paradise  Lost  (Book  X,  111-114.) 


I40    The  Epic  of  Paradise  Lost 

the  doubt  that  now  obscures  our  knowledge  of 
Eve's  motives.  She  seems  not  fully  instructed, 
and  the  question  may  be  properly  asked,  whether 
on  that  point  heaven  has  discharged  all  obliga- 
tion? Likewise  in  Caedmon's  story  on  the  side 
of  the  evil  powers  there  is  a  loss  of  force,  for 
Satan  delegates  the  important  task  of  the 
temptation  of  man  to  a  messenger;  in  Paradise 
Lost,  the  archfiend  is  eager  to  execute  the  plot 
himself. 

Interesting  as  Csedmon's  work  is,  it  is  evi- 
dent that  it  could  not  aid  Milton  very  effectively 
in  his  task  of  creating  Paradise  Lost,  In  so 
far  as  it  makes,  however,  a  definite  artistic  ap- 
peal, it  may  inspire  the  literary  artist  more 
than  such  other  cruder  clerical  versions  of  the 
story  as  may  be  found  in  The  Story  of  Genesis 
and  ExoduSy  preserved  in  manuscripts  of  not 
later  than  the  second  half  of  the  thirteenth  cen- 
tury, or  in  Cursor  Mundi,  of  the  fourteenth. 
The  temptation  scene  in  these  shows  a  clerical 
bias  in  the  treatment  of  Eve  that  is  not  broadly 
human,  and  it  reveals  also  no  appreciation  of 
the  dramatic  possibilities  of  the   story. 

The  non-dramatic  versions  of  man's  fall 
reach  a  later  evolution  in  such  philosophical 
and  didactic  treatises  as  Tasso's  Sette  Giornate 


Other  Versions  of  Man's  Fall  141 

del  Mondo  Creato,  in  which  the  freedom  of  the 
will  is  dwelt  upon,  by  which  man's  dignity  is 
assured,  by  which  also  he  fell.  The  temptation 
is  given  in  the  simplest,  barest  outline  and  the 
aim  of  the  work  throughout  is  doctrinal  and  it 
is  not  artistic  in  any  creative  sense. 

So  also  in  the  work  of  Du  Bartas,  Les  Deux 
Premiers  Jours  de  la  Seconde  Sepmaine,  there 
is  little  proof  of  creative  imagination,  no  ar- 
tistic grasp  upon  the  dramatic  possibility  of 
the  theme,  and  no  artistic  reserve.  Du  Bartas 
is  an  embroiderer  of  phrases  rather  than  a 
constructive  artist,  and  throughout  his  aim 
is  philosophical  and  didactic  rather  than 
imaginative. 

In  the  part  entitled  L' Imposture,  Du  Bartas 
recounts  the  details  of  the  scene  of  the  tempta- 
tion and  there  is  one  point  to  be  noted  that  is 
directly  in  contrast  to  Casdmon's  method ;  Satan, 
when  he  is  about  to  tempt  Eve,  decides  that 
it  is  better  to  make  use  of  a  created  body; 
therefore  he  tries  several  animals,  as  one  might 
try  a  garment,  and  decides  upon  a  serpent; 
for  if  he  appears  as  an  angel  of  light,  he  fears 
that  this  disguise  would  diminish  man's  fault, 
so  Satan  neither  appears  nor  talks  like  an 
angel    of   light.     There   is    a    gain    over    Csed- 


14^    The  Epic  of  Paradise  Lost 

mon's  method  in  this  particular,  but  from  a 
dramatic  standpoint  Du  Bartas  is  inferior  to 
Caedmon  nor  could  he  afford  Milton  aid  in  the 
important  problem  of  the  structure  of  Para- 
dise Lost. 

In  Vida's  Chrisiias,  which  is  a  Christian  epic, 
the  temptation  scene  is  colourless  and  non- 
dramatic.  His  theme  is  Christ's  passion,  not 
man's  fall,  and  the  influence  of  the  work  upon 
Milton's  mind  was  not  helpful  in  the  larger 
problem  of  construction,  but  in  the  smaller  de- 
tails of  finish.  The  influence  of  the  De  Partu 
Virginis  of  Sannazarro  can  be  traced  also  only 
in  such  minor  details  as  the  descriptive  pass- 
age of  the  flowers  that  lift  their  heads  to  greet 
the  Virgin,  as  they  also  in  Paradise  Lost  wel- 
come the  coming  of  Eve;  the  larger  problem 
of  the  two  works  is  not  only  different  but  the 
method  is  in  strong  contrast.  So  far,  then, 
the  help  available  to  Milton  from  the  preceding 
works  of  literature  upon  the  contest  of  God 
and  Satan  was  rather  negative  than  positive. 
They  might  well  impress  Milton  with  the  con- 
viction that  the  vivid  dramatic  scene  of  the 
temptation,  the  towering  figure  of  Satan 
stooping  through  defeat  to  subtlety  and  guile, 
the  pathos  of  the  lost  innocence  of  Adam  and 


Other  Versions  of  Man's  Fall  143 

Eve  and  of  all  mankind  had  not  found  adequate 
expression  in  literary  art. 

There  are  however  some  dramatic  versions 
of  Adam's  fall  and  of  Satan's  contest  with  God 
that  are  both  interesting  and  significant  for 
the  light  that  they  throw  upon  the  distinction 
between  the  epic  and  the  tragedy  discussed  in 
the  foregoing  essays,  and  for  the  influence  that 
they  may  have  had  upon  Milton's  decision  to 
write  an  epic  rather  than  a  tragedy  upon  the 
invasion  of  Eden  by  evil. 


OF  THE      ^ 

UNIVERSITY 

OF 


yA 


VI 

MAN'S  FALL  IN  TRAGEDY 

«*ADAMUS  EXSUL,"  GROTIUS 

MONG  the  attempts  to  write  a  tragedy 
upon  the  fall  of  man  there  is  one  by  no 
less  a  genius  than  Hugo  Grotius.  This  "  mon- 
ster of  erudition  "  turned  his  attention  in  his 
youth  to  the  writing  of  poetry  and  attained  a 
considerable  degree  of  international  fame  for 
his  short  poems  and  for  his  three  tragedies. 
Scaliger,  Baudius,  Lipsius,  Vossius,  and  Casau- 
bon  were  among  those  that  praised  his  poetry, 
scholars  whose  praise  was  not  thought  to 
be  lightly  won.  Among  the  three  tragedies 
published  by  Grotius,  the  first  was  A  damns 
Exsul,  printed  at  Le3'^den  in  1601,^  when  the 
author  was  in  his  nineteenth  year.  The  fact 
that  the  author  was  only  nineteen  has  no  im- 
portant bearing  upon  the  value  of  the  study 
of  A  damns  Exsnl,  for  so  great  a  prodigy  was 
Grotius  that  ordinary  conclusions  are  impos- 
144 


'*Adamus  Exsul/'  Grotius     145 

sible.  The  tragedy  was  held  worthy  of  very 
respectful  attention  and  of  flattering  comment 
in  its  day,  and  the  interest  in  the  work  at  the 
present  time  has  not  died.  The  question  that 
confronts  us  in  our  study  is  not  the  precocity 
of  the  author,  but  what  are  the  defects  in  the 
treatment  of  the  theme  reasonably  to  be  at- 
tributed to  his  choice  of  an  artistic  form  un- 
suited  to  his  subject? 

Despite  his  success,  Grotius  held  a  modest 
opinion  of  his  own  poetical  skill.  On  one  oc- 
casion he  expressed  his  surprise  at  the  gra- 
ciousness  of  Vondel,  in  translating  the  work  of 
one  who  wrote  verses  inferior  to  his  own.  On 
another  occasion  in  one  of  his  letters  Grotius 
writes,  "  Nos  certe  carminis  gloria  nulli  non 
cedimus,''  ^  Later  when  his  brother  William 
proposed  to  collect  and  publish  all  of  his  poeti- 
cal efforts  ^  Grotius  gave  a  reluctant  consent, 
but  insisted  that  the  juvenile  tragedy  Adamus 
Exsul  should  be  excluded  from  the 
edition.^ 

As  a  consequence  of  this  fact,  possibly,  the 

tragedy  does   not  appear  in   collected  editions 

*  Epistle  5. 

'  Edition  appeared  in  1617;  dedicatory  letter  to  Vander- 
mile  is  dated  1616. 
^  See  Vie  de  Grotius,  Burigny,  vol.  i,  page  42. 


146    The  Epic  of  Paradise  Lost 

of  the  works  ^  of  Grotius.  The  play,  how- 
ever, must  have  gone  through  a  number  of 
editions,  for  the  only  copy  available  is  a  Lon- 
don reprint  of  1752,^  from  the  fifth  edition 
of  1601 ;  that  is  of  the  first  year  of  its 
appearance. 

For  the  seven  years  between  1747  and  1754? 
the  tragedy  of  Adamus  Exsul  was  dragged  into 
an  unenviable  publicity  through  the  activities 
of  William  Lauder.  But  the  question  of  Mil- 
ton's indebtedness  to  Grotius  was  long  ago  a 
dead  issue  and  hardly  needed  the  offices  of 
Doctor  Johnson  as  chief  executioner;  for  in 
any  case  there  is  no  plagiarism  "  in  bettering 
the  borrowed."  Our  interest  to-day  is  far  dif- 
ferent; we  decide,  despite  Grotius's  dissatis- 
faction with  this  work  of  his  youth,  that  the 
tragedy  is  well  worth  study  for  itself  and  that 
while  it  was  undoubtedly  known  by  Milton,  it 
presents  more  contrast  than  likeness  to  Paradise 
Lost,  and  our  interest  in  it  must  be  for 
the  light  that  it  may  throw  upon  the  treat- 
ment of  the  subject  of  the  fall  of  man  in 
a     tragedy.     Some     considerations     might    be 

» See    edition   of  Holland   Society,  and  see  British 
Museum  Catalogue. 
*  See  Bibliography  at  end  of  this  volume. 


**Adamus  Exsul/'  Grotius      147 

suggested  that  seem  reasonable  explanations 
why  this  tragedy  to-day  is  not  better  known. 
The  editions  are  few  and  the  copies  are 
rare. 

A  seventeenth-century  tragedy  on  the  Sene- 
can  model  in  the  Latin  tongue  is  not  likely  to 
be  generally  read  to-day.  It  is  probable,  too, 
that  Lauder's  claims  that  Milton  had  plagiar- 
ised passages  from  Adamus  Exsul  have  thrown 
the  work  into  some  disrepute,  as  the  Lucifer 
of  Vondel  has  also  suffered  from  such  a  com- 
parison with  Paradise  Lost.  Fair  criticism 
should  include  a  consideration  of  the  author's 
aim;  the  purpose  of  both  Adamus  Exsul  and 
of  Lucifer  differs  from  Paradise  Lost;  is 
there  any  mistake  in  their  aim.  The  con- 
sideration of  that  question  alone  is  my  purpose 
in  the  study  that  here  follows  of  this 
play. 

The  tragedy  of  Adamus  Exsul,  ^  in  five  acts 
with  a  chorus,  opens  with  a  speech  of  Satan  of 
two  hundred  and  four  lines  about  the  fall  of 
the  angels,  the  creation  of  the  world,  the 
beauty   of  Eden,   and   the  happy   lot   of  man. 

'  Only  translations  found  are : 

1.  In  Dutch,  in  collected  works  of  Vondel. 

2.  In  English  by  F.  Barham,  mentioned  in  British 
Museum  Catalogue.  London,  1839.  2d  edition,  1847,  no 
copy  found. 


148     The  Epic  of  Paradise  Lost 

Satan  shows  that  he  is  jealous  of  man,  for  he 
contrasts  with  Adam's  manifold  blessings  his 
own  hard  lot,  but  he  finds  particular  ground 
for  resentment  in  the  fact  that  man  shall  en- 
ter heaven.  To  quote  the  words  of  Satan, 
"  Though  man  may  cultivate  Eden  and  aspire 
to  my  place  in  heaven,  he  shall  not  have  it  with- 
out war." 

"  Man  despises  my  attacks  in  his  confident 
hope  of  heaven." 

"  The  shame,  if  I  deserted  my  kingdom  to 
have  it  given  to  another." 

The  archfiend  displays  not  only  pride,  en- 
during in  his  fall,  but  resentment  against  God, 
for  his  banishment  from  heaven,  and  settled 
enmity  against  God  and  man.  He  has  learned 
only  caution  by  his  former  defeat.  After  the 
announcement  of  Satan's  intention  to  corrupt 
innocent  man  and  to  set  him  at  variance  with 
God,  the  act  ends  with  a  chorus. 

In  scene  i  of  the  second  act  Adam  talks  with 
a  wise  and  friendly  angel  very  much  as  Adam 
in  Paradise  Lost  converses  with  Raphael  in  the 
fifth,  sixth,  and  seventh  books.  The  topics  dis- 
cussed are  also  similar ;  Adam  learns  of  the 
wonders  of  creation,  of  the  cosmogony,  of  the 
music  of  the  spheres,  of  the  life  of  the  angels 


'^Adamus  Exsul/'  Grotius     149 

in  heaven,  and  of  the  conduct  of  the  life  of 
mortals  on  earth.  There  is,  however,  no  allu- 
sion to  Satan,  for  Adam  and  Eve  are  warned 
only  of  the  subtlety  of  serpents.-^ 

In  scene  ii,  Adam  and  Eve  rejoice  in  their 
great  love  for  God  and  for  each  other  and 
listen  to  a  chorus  of  angels. 

In  Act  III,  Satan  comes  to  execute  his  threat 
against  man.  He  offers  to  make  a  bond  ^  with 
Adam  against  God;  by  united  resistance  they 
may  succeed  in  gaining  the  control  of  the 
heavens  and  the  earth,  and  with  Adam  Satan 
promises  to  divide  the  spoils  of  war;  but  man 
unhesitatingly  spurns  the  offer  and  puts  Satan 
to  flight. 

Act  IV.  Thus  frustrated,  Satan  devises  a 
more  careful  plot  for  man's  overthrow.  He 
will  practise  all  of  his  wiles  upon  Eve,  and 
through  her  accomplish  the  downfall  of  Adam. 
To  this  end,  he  assumes  the  form  of  a  beauti- 
ful serpent  and  approaches  Eve  whom  he  finds 
alone.  Eve  is  amazed  at  the  brilliant  colours 
of  the  snake  and  exclaims,  "  I  wonder  if  he  can 

1  Notice  that  this  warning  against  serpents  imphes  lack 
of  agreement  .with  St.  Augustine,  Tasso,  Du  Bartas,  in 
the  theory  that  there  is  no  evil  in  outward  nature. 

2  This  suggests  bond  in  Marlowe's  Dr,  Faustus,  also 
bond  in  Goethe's  Faust, 


1 50    The  Epic  of  Paradise  Lost 

speak."  By  this  device,  the  author  prepares 
our  mind  for  Satan's  first  words.  He  marvels 
at  her  great  beauty  and  inquires  about  her 
opportunities  in  her  hfe  in  the  garden  of  Eden. 
She  expresses  her  gratitude  for  all  the  bless- 
ings that  she  and  Adam  enjoy,  with  one  so 
slight  restriction; — that  is,  they  should  not 
taste  the  fruit  of  the  tree  of  knowledge, 
and  if  they  do,  death  will  be  the  punishment. 
It  is  noticeable  that  her  thought  is  only 
of  the  wonderful  benevolence  of  God,  and 
that  she  throws  no  emphasis  upon  the 
restriction. 

Satan  at  once  shifts  the  stress  and  notices 
only  the  prohibition.  He  expresses  great  sur- 
prise at  this  command,  for  it  is  opposed  to  rea- 
son. The  ground  for  the  restriction  is  surely 
absurd,  for  the  time  of  death  is  settled  by 
heaven:  no  one  has  the  power  to  shorten  life 
but  God.  The  fruit  ^  cannot  be  evil  for  God 
created  it,  and  since  God  is  good  no  evil  can 
emanate  from  him,  therefore  there  can  be  no 
harm  at  all  in  the  fruit.  Even  if  there  were 
harm,  eternal  death  is  impossible,  for  death  is 
evil,  and  only  good  is  eternal,  as  God  alone  is 

1  See  the  reasoning  of  Satan,  Paradise  Lost,  Book  IX, 
lines  679-703. 


'^Adamus  Exsul/'  Grotius     151 

eternal.  Eve  clings  closely  to  her  text,  what 
she  has  stated  is  God's  command  and  there  can 
be  no  discussion  about  it.  Satan  in  reply  in- 
sists upon  the  one  idea  that  evil  cannot  come 
of  good,  and  he  now  gradually  insinuates  the 
notion  that  since  ^  the  basis  of  the  injunction 
is  untrue,  the  motive  for  the  command  is  ques- 
tionable. What  can  it  he?  The  fruit  must 
be  good,  it  looks  most  attractive,  the  command 
is  not  based  upon  reason,  and  it  is  therefore 
hard  and  unfair.  After  a  long  discussion"^^ 
upon  the  nature  of  good  and  of  evil  and  of 
fate,  he  convinces  Eve  that  God  is  indeed 
jealous  of  her  undoubted  cleverness  of  mind 
and  of  her  transcendent  beauty  of  form,  and 
he  has  forbidden  her  to  eat  the  fruit  solely  to 
prevent  her  from  becoming  a  goddess.  Satan 
urges  that  if  she  will  now  be  courageous  and 
take  the  apple,  she  will  become  divine,  and  she 
will  then  have  power  to  evade  all  punishment; 
for  she  will  be  equal  with  God.  j 

Eve,  gradually  persuaded  of  the  truth  of  this 
reasoning,  becomes  indignant  at  the  injustice  of 
God  in  seeking  to  keep  her  from  her  proper 
position  as  a  divinity,  and  she  boldly  seizes  the 

*  Compare  Paradise  Lost,  Book  IX,  lines  703-717. 


152     The  Epic  of  Paradise  Lost 

apple.  Satan  at  that  moment  descries  Adam 
approaching,  and  he  flees. 

Eve  now  hastens  to  meet  Adam  and  urges 
him  to  eat  of  the  fruit  of  the  tree  of  know- 
ledge. He  unhesitatingly  declares  his  loyalty 
to  God  and  his  horror  of  her  disobedience. 
Eve  thereupon  rehearses  all  the  arguments  of 
Satan  on  the  nature  of  good  and  evil  and  she 
shows  how  unreasonable  is  the  command  of  God 
not  to  eat  the  apple  and  what  deception  is 
implied.  She  also  points  out  the  motive  for 
this  deception  in  the  jealousy  of  God  for  their 
latent  powers  of  the  godhead,  but  she  insists 
that  it  is  unnecessary  to  submit  to  this  envy  of 
God,  all  that  is  necessary  for  freedom  is  cour- 
age. ^'  Cast  off  the  yoke  of  slavery,  eat  and 
with  divine  knowledge  all  punishment  can  be 
evaded."  There  is  indeed  no  such  thing  as 
death,  no  one  ever  saw  it,  they  cannot  thus 
be  frightened  with  an  unreal  phantasm.  Will 
Adam,  she  asks,  let  a  woman  outdo  him  in 
courage?  But  Adam  still  stoutly  resists  all 
this  sophistry,  and  Eve  changes  her  tactics ;  for 
since  the  intellectual  appeal  has  failed,  she  will 
try  the  emotional. 

She  asks  what  then  is  to  be  done?  If  Adam 
really  supposes  that  the  harmless   little  apple 


'*Adamus  Exsul/'  Grotius     153 

can  bring  death,  is  he  willing  that  his  wife 
should  meet  the  punishment  alone?  She  pre- 
sents to  him  a  dilemma  most  distressing  to 
Adam:  shall  he  obey  God  and  desert  his  wife, 
or  be  loyal  to  his  wife  and  disobey  God?  This 
artificial  distinction  blinds  Adam's  perceptions 
and  causes  him  deep  anguish.  Eve  pleads  and 
rages  like  a  Medea,  and  Adam  very  sadly 
yields  to  her  demands,  saying  that  he  must 
cast  in  his  lot  with  his  wife,  and  he  hopes  that 
God  will  take  into  account  his  difficult  position 
and  will  pardon  him  for  his  allegiance  to  the 
woman,  whom  God  created  for  him  and  bade 
him  to  love  and  care  for.  Eve  exults  in  her 
power,  urges  the  fruit  upon  her  husband,  and 
assures  him  that  now  he  shows  courage;  now 
he  is  a  man. 

But  Adam's  cheeks  grow  pale  as  he  eats  the 
apple  and  his  strength  fails.  "  Spare,  oh 
spare  man !  "  he  cries,  and  the  chorus  laments 
the  fall  of  man. 

In  Act  V,  scene  i,  Satan  exults  in  his  vic- 
tory over  God  and  man.  He  boasts  that  he 
now  equals  highest  heaven,  he  now  rules  the 
earth;  all  created  things  are  subject  unto  him. 
The  punishment  inflicted  by  God  only  makes 
him  more  powerful  and  as  the  exile  from  heaven 


154    The  Epic  of  Paradise  Lost 

was  thus  a  blessing,  he  is  mockingly  grateful 
to  God.  The  archfiend  thus  gloats  over  the 
fall  of  man  and  woman :  "  You  now  will  go 
into  exile,  you  alone  will  envy  my  lot." 

In  scene  ii,  Adam  is  completely  unmanned, 
he  trembles  with  terror;  Eve,  Medea-like, 
stands  resolute;  she  assures  him  that  there  is 
no  cause  for  alarm.  To  encourage  Adam  she 
repeats  Satan's  sophistry  about  fate  and  about 
evil,  for  as  there  is  no  evil,  the  apple  was  good 
and  it  was  wise  to  eat  it.  Surely,  she  asserts, 
they  are  benefited  by  this  act  of  disobedience 
and  now  they  begin  to  live. 

Unable  to  shake  him  from  his  abject  de- 
spondency, she  becomes  personal  and  laments 
her  loss  of  charm  for  him;  in  that,  she  declares, 
she  is  indeed  unhappy.  She  suggests  that  he 
should  cease  to  think  about  God  and  be  satis- 
iSed  with  her  approval.  Again  she  seeks  to 
set  over  against  one  another,  love  for  her,  and 
duty  to  God. 

But  the  horror-stricken  Adam  thinks  only 
of  his  lost  innocence.  He  loathes  life,  it  is 
better,  he  says,  to  die;  but  God  may  be  yet 
more  angry  if  he  takes  his  own  life.  Eve  re- 
joins that  the  only  evil  is  fear ;  she  begs  him  to 
be  a  man,  to  be  strong,  and  take  courage.    But 


**Adamus  Exsul/'  Grotius     155 

Adam  cannot  be  made  to  view  his  fall  in  any 
hopeful  light  and  Eve  is  reduced  to  her  last 
resort. 

She  says  then: 

If  the  first  evil  was  the  eating  of  the  apple,  as  you  be- 
lieve, for  that  I  am  responsible,  and  on  account  of  this 
act,  life  is  impossible  and  yet  you  cannot  commit  suicide, 
however  much  you  wish  to  die, — I  will  myself  die  by  my 
own  hand,  or  you  may  kill  me, — will  that  improve  mat- 
ters ?    You  then  will  be  left  alone  I 

Adam  is  not  comforted  but  Eve  gains  her 
point;  for  he  declares  this  to  be  no  solution  of 
his  difficulty,  he  cannot  live  without  her.  He 
must  be  allowed  to  die  first;  she,  if  she  insists 
upon  dying,  must  at  least  outlive  him.  It  is 
true  that  God  may  prefer  to  have  him  live,  but 
life  is  intolerable.  Thus  the  second  time  Adam 
declares  his  love  for  Eve  in  opposition  to  loy- 
alty to  the  will  of  God. 

All  nature  now  groans,  the  trees  bow  their 
heads  as  at  an  earthquake  shock,  and  God 
comes.  In  terror  Adam  flees  and  laments  his 
shame.  When  God  calls  Adam,  he  replies  that 
he  is  ashamed  to  see  God  face  to  face.  Shame 
follows  guilt;  God  declares  he  then  must  have 
sinned.  Adam  explains  that  Eve  misled  him 
and  Eve  urges,  as  an  excuse  for  herself,  that 
the    serpent   that    God   himself   had   created   is 


is6    The  Epic  of  Paradise  Lost 

really  responsible.  But  God  declares  judg- 
ment upon  them,  after  pronouncing  his  curse 
upon  the  serpent. 

The  judgment  upon  woman  is  mingled  with 
a  prophecy  of  Christ,  which  softens  its  severity. 
"  Satan,"  he  says,  "  shall  not  have  dominion 
over  woman,  this  ray  of  light  shall  Ughten  her 
future  pathway,  God  shall  take  upon  himself 
human  flesh,  born  of  a  virgin,  and  shall  bruise 
the  arrogant  head  of  the  serpent,"  but  upon 
woman  "  shall  a  curse  fall,  for  her  betrayal 
of  man  with  crafty  word; — even  pain,  and 
whimsical  desires,  and  the  imperious  rule  of 
man." 

Adam's  sentence  follows  and  he  is  told  in 
short  that  he  is  to  be  a  leader,  not  a  lackey  in 
his  home.  He  is  to  restrain  the  impulses  of 
his  wife  and  not  to  be  her  consort  in  perpetrat- 
ing sin.  In  conclusion  God  enjoins  this  penalty 
^^  because  you  have  esteemed  less  my  law  than 

the  wit  of  a  woman  " — "  with  hard  labour  shall 

*- — -      -J  ~-- 

you  win  your  bread,  your  body  shall  return  to 
dust,  and  on  account  of  your  sin,  you  shall  be 
condemned  to  hell,  unless  you  receive  the  mercy 
of  the  righteous  Judge." 

Thus  there  is  hope  of  salvation  through 
mercy.      God,    after    foretelling    the    race    of 


**Adamus  Exsul/'  Grotius     157 

mankind  that  will  be  their  descendants,  gives 
them  clothes  of  sheepskin.  Adam  laments  the 
changes  that  sin  had  brought  and  God  says, 
with  what  strikes  our  ears  as  containing  a 
touch  of  pagan  derision,  "  Seeking  to  be  equal 
with  God,  you  have  lost  your  pristine  glory ! " 
In  conclusion  Adam  and  Eve  are  expelled  from 
the  garden,  and  thus  the  tragedy  ends. 

The  strong  points  in  this  tragedy  are  not 
hard  to  find,  ^he  intensity  of  Satan's  resent- 
ment against  God  gives  a  motive  for  his  at- 
tack upon  Adam  and  Eve,  in  whose  beauty  and 
innocence  God  is  represented  as  taking  so 
much  pleasure.j  When  he  fails  to  make  the 
bond  with  Adam  against  God,  and  turns  all 
his  energy  to  corrupting  Eve,  his  scholastic  i 
subtlety  of  reasoning  and  plausible  explana- 
tions make  her  fall  conceivable. 

Eve's  conversation  with  Adam,  when  she 
plays  the  part  of  an  ambassador  of  Satan,  is 
spirited  and  interesting  and  full  of  flashes  from 
human  life.  She  is  a  bold,  clever  actress  and 
makes  the  situation  theatrical,  when  she  forces 
the  fall  upon  Adam  as  a  knightly  duty.  In 
our  eyes,  in  a  great  measure,  this  justifies  her 
husband's  perplexity.  Adam  seems  worthy  of 
our  respectjjhejias  been  mther to  aiTintelli gent 


158     The  Epic  of  Paradise  Lost 

companion  of  the  angels;  he  has  been  upright 
and  good  from  an  appreciation  of  the  beauty 
of  holiness.  He  has  unhesitatingly  rejected 
Satan's  overtures;  for  he  has  no  ambition  to 
supersede  God  in  the  management  of  the  uni- 
verse, nor  to  share  this  dignity  with  the  fallen 
archangel.  When  Eve  tells  him  of  all  the  bene- 
fits of  a  freedom  from  allegiance  to  God,  he 
is  unconvinced.  It  is  only  when  she  thrusts 
upon  him  an  artificial  dilemma  of  her  own  mak- 
ing in  the  time-worn  problem  of  a  tragedy,  the 
contest  between  love  and  duty, — then  he  hesi- 
tates and  feels  unequal  to  the  solution.  Eve  has 
a  motive  now  for  passjon,  as  Satan  had  for  his 
intrigue,  and  she^^weepsAdam^on.  He  is  too 
much  moved  by  his  love  for  her  to  be  able  to 
see  clearly  that  in  reality  there  can  be  no  con- 
flict  between  JbyeforGo^ind  love  ferjieh  that 
the  gr^aterobligation  includes  jhe  less ;  but 
te  is  persuaded  blindly  that  he  must  choose  be- 
tween God  and  the  woman.  The  movement  of  the 
tragedy  is  skilfully  delayed  here,  until  he  has 
chosen  a  second  time  and  avows  again  preference 
for  Eve  over  God;  then  the  punishment  comes. 
So  far,  the  lines  of  the  tragedy  are  correctly 
drawn  and,  with  the  dignity  of  style  and  the 
beauty    of    the    chorus,    the    question    may    be 


**Adamus  Exsul,"  Grotius     159 

raised,  why  is  it  not  a  satisfactory  tragedy? 
The  theme  of  the  tragedy  after  all  is  the  fall 
of  man, — has  that  been   adequately  treated? 

Is  the  opposition  of  the  good  angels  to  the 
bad  angels  as  strongly  depicted  as  the  subject 
demands?  We  find  in  this  tragedy  the  two 
interacting  plots:  [Satan  against  God,  and 
Satan  against  man.  The  motive  for  Satan's 
attack  upon  the  innocence  of  man  is,  by  means 
of  man's  overthrow,  to  revenge  himself  on 
God.^J  The  garden  of  Eden  thus  becomes  the 
battle-field  of  a  spiritual  conflict  and  Adam 
plays  a  double  part;  he  resists  the  attack 
against  God,  by  resisting  the  temptation  of 
Satan.  For  this  reason,  the  first  overture  of 
Satan  to  man  is  important  for  both  plots,  the 
plot  of  the  spirits  of  evil  against  the  spirits  of 
good,  and  the  plot  of  the  evil  spirits  against  a 
good  man^  for  man's  resistance  is  necessary  for 
the  intrigue  in  both  plots.  In  Paradise  Lost, 
there  is  the  opposition  of  the  angels;  Satan  is 
discovered  by  the  heavenly  sentinel  before  he 
enters  Paradise;  he  is  later  caught  in  Eden 
by  the  guardian  angel  and  put  to  flight.  And 
following  fast  thereupon,  Raphael  is  sent  down 
to  warn  Adam  very  explicitly  of  the  nature  of 
the  peril  that  threatens  him. 


i6o    The  Epic  of  Paradise  Lost 

The  angel's  visit  in  the  second  act  of  Adamus 
Exsul  does  not  clearly  take  the  place  of  any  of 
these  devices  for  estabhshing  the  reasonable- 
ness of  the  story  in  the  balance  of  the  good 
forces  against  the  bad  angels.  The  angel  mes- 
senger in  Grotius's  play  gives  no  clear  warning 
of  the  approaching^  contest  of  Adam  with 
Satan.  We  do  not,  therefore,  in  Adamus  Exsul 
feel  that  Satan  has  been  sufficiently  resisted  by 
God.  Nor  does  the  garden  of  Eden  seem  so 
angel- visited  and  angel-guarded  in  Adamus 
Exsul,  as  Paradise  appears  to  be  either  in 
Paradise  Lost,  or  in  Adam  in  Balling schap. 
The  lack  of  this  establishing  of  probability  in 
God's  management  of  his  kingdom  detracts 
from  the  force  of  the  conclusion.  We  are  not 
convinced  that  the  ending  is  inevitable  for  all 
men  in  like  situation ;  instead  we  ask,  has  man 
fallen  through  his  own  free  will  in  Adamus  Ex- 
sul, or  because  God  has  been  a  little  careless  of 
his  kingdom.? 

The  inadequate  presentation  of  the  force  of 
good  reacts  upon  the  presentation  of  the  force 
of  evil,  for  Satan  does  not  have  enough  ob- 
stacles to  overcome.  Moreover,  clever  and  se- 
ductive as  his  reasoning  is,  it  cannot  in  itself 
reconstruct    for    our    imagination    the    fallen 


''Adamus  Exsul/'  Grotius      i6i 

archangel,  the  great  protagonist  with  God. 
The  cleverness  of  his  words  in  the  temptation 
of  Eve  might  emanate  from  Belial,  or  Mephis- 
topheles,  the  emissary  only,  rather  than  the 
Prince  of  Darkness ;  the  outline  of  Eve's  temp- 
ter in  the  play  does  not  appear  heroic  to  our 
imagination.  More  episodes  and  great  delib- 
eration in  the  method  are  necessary  to  perfect 
such  a  characterisation  as  that  of  Satan  and  to 
present  the  convincing  power  of  the  story;  but 
these  devices  are  questionable  in  a  tragedy, 
which  should  be  closely  unified  and  brief,  and 
the  full  intellectual  stature  of  Satan  must  be 
superhuman  and  could  not  be  concrete  in  the 
sense  of  the  concreteness  of  a  tragedy  for  it 
would   be   grotesque. 

The  human  side  suffers  from  the  incom- 
pleteness of  the  balance  of  the  spiritual  forces 
of  the  good  and  of  the  evil  in  two  ways :  first  in 
man;  Adam  is  represented  as  a  man  worthy  of 
respect,  unhesitating  in  his  instinct  for  the 
right;  in  the  episode  of  the  first  conflict  with 
Satan  he  reveals  no  ambition  to  rival  God,  and 
in  the  ordeal  with  Eve  as  tempter  the  only 
problem  that  he  admits  as  hard  to  solve  is  that 
of  the  contest  between  love  and  duty.  In  the 
moment  of  his  fall,  he  pleads  that  God  will  for- 


1 62     The  Epic  of  Paradise  Lost 

give  him,  because  he  is  in  such  a  very  difficult 
position  and  must  decide  between  these  two 
conflicting  notions,  duty  to  God  and  love  to 
Eve.  The  last  words  of  God  in  the  judgment 
scene  come  as  a  surprise  therefore,  from  the 
standpoint  of  the  denouement  of  the  tragedy. 
God  says  to  Adam :  "  Seeking  to  be  equal  with 
God,  you  have  lost  your  first  glory !  "  There 
has  been  no  trace  of  ambition  in  Adam — in  the 
development  of  the  tragedy,  he  has  been  a  vic- 
tim to  family  ties ;  in  anguish  of  spirit,  through 
the  claim  of  his  wife,  he  has  lost  clearness  of 
perception — that  is  his  part  in  the  tragedy. 
If  he  were  ambitious,  we  should  have  been 
clearly  shown  this  defect. 

The  second  loss  in  the  human  plot  in  Adamus 
Exsul  is  found  in  the  character  of  Eve,  who 
is  in  the  human  plot  the  chief  actor,  as  Satan  is 
in  the  spiritual  plot.  In  order  to  throw  the 
human  characters  into  prominence  for  the 
exigencies  of  the  tragedy,  she  is  made  too 
strong,  not  for  the  interest  of  the  character 
in  itself  but  for  the  theme.  How  could  she  be 
hitherto  innocent  of  all  evil? — for  she  seems  ex- 
perienced in  guile.  Adam  is  slow  to  fall  into 
sin  and  immediately  regrets  it,  but  Eve  shows 
rejoicing  in  her  disobedience,  and  the  only  sign 


**Adamus  Exsul,"  Grotius     163 

of  repentance  that  she  shows  seems  merely  a 
form  of  fear.  The  character  may  not  be 
overdrawn  for  the  tragic  interest,  but  it  is 
exaggerated  out  of  proportion  for  the  reason- 
ableness of  the  plot,  unless  Eve  were  really  the 
creation  of  Satan,  rather  than  of  God,  a  con- 
clusion which  is  not  in  accordance  with  the 
theme.  Eve's  character  required  the  delibera- 
tion of  the  epic  or  of  the  novel. 

We  know  next  to  nothing  about  Eve  before 
her  fall;  from  that  time  on  in  A  damns  Exsul 
she  is  so  bold,  so  hard,  so  unyielding,  that  she 
has  no  prototype  in  literature  except  Medea. 
From  the  talk  with  Satan  at  the  foot  of  the 
tree  of  knowledge  on,  she  is  mistress  of  the 
situation ;  no  compunction  shakes  her  fell  pur- 
pose, only  the  earthquake  and  the  voice  of  God 
bring  her  to  her  knees.  Even  in  her  reply  to 
God,  there  is  a  touch  of  impertinence, — **  The 
serpent  that  thou  hast  made,"  as  though  Godfw, 
after  all  were  responsible  for  her  fall.  The 
episodes  needed  to  prepare  for  so  great  a  change 
in  her  character  belong  essentially  to  the 
leisurely  devices  of  the  novel,  or  of  the  epic, 
rather  than  to  the  brevity  of  the  tragedy;  but 
these  details  are  particularly  necessary  in 
treating  a  plot  so  remote  from  the  usual,  both  in 


1 64     The  Epic  of  Paradise  Lost 

persons  and  circumstances.  The  subject  there- 
fore seems  unfitted  to  tragedy,  and  requires  the 
epic  method.  Surely  the  battle  of  the  good 
angels  and  of  the  evil  angels  demands  the  scope 
of  the  epic  background,  if  it  is  to  be  adequately 
presented,  and  for  such  a  task  the  epic  method 
is  indispensable. 


VII 

"ADAM  IN  BALLINGSCHAP,"  VONDEL 

AMONG  other  tragedies  upon  the  fall  of 
man  is  one  of  peculiar  interest  that  was 
written  by  Joost  Van  den  Vondel,  the  great 
poet  of  Holland,  in  his  seventy-eighth  year, 
about  ten  years  after  he  had  produced  his  mas- 
terpiece, Lucifer, 

Students  of  Dutch  literature  have  ranked  this 
tragedy,  Adam  in  Ballingschap,^  as  second  only 
in  merit  to  Lucifer,  The  slow  development  of 
the  self-taught  poet  Vondel  presents  a  con- 
trast to  Grotius,  whose  precocious  mind  received 
every  advantage  of  education.  It  was  not 
until  Vondel  was  twenty-five,  and  not  until 
after  he  had  produced  his  first  drama,  that  he 
turned  his  attention  to  the  study  of  the  lan- 
guages, French  and  Latin,  and  not  until  he  was 
forty  that  he  undertook  the  study  of  Greek. 
Through  perseverance  he  became  not  only  a 
scholar,  but  an  imitator  and  a  translator  of  the 

»  Adam  in  Ballingschap,  1664.  See  bibliography  at 
end  of  this  volume. 

165 


1 66     The  Epic  of  Paradise  Lost 

classics,  of  Sophocles^  of  Ovid,  and  of  Seneca, 
and  he  made  Sophocles  and  Euripides  his  models 
in  tragedy.  Nor  devoted  as  he  was  to  study 
did  he  neglect  his  art  of  creation ;  indeed  Vondel 
wrote  in  all  thirty-three  tragedies,  eighteen  of 
which  were  presented  on  the  stage. 

His  dramas  reveal  a  personality  that  is  de- 
finite and  vigorous.  He  was  indeed  an  ardent 
champion  of  human  liberty,  and  he  was  opposed 
to  the  intolerance  of  zealous  reformers  in  his 
day  in  both  church  and  state,  who,  he  thought, 
were  promoting  no  one's  liberty  except  their 
own.  He  was  renowned  for  his  satires  and  his 
keenness  in  controversy,  and  while  he  made 
many  enemies,  his  genius  was  recognised  from 
his  first  published  drama,  and  his  life  was  full 
of  honour  and  of  appreciation.  In  1653,  his 
position  in  the  world  of  art  and  letters  was 
shown,  when  the  painters,  sculptors,  poets,  and 
architects  gathered  at  an  anniversary  meeting 
at  St.  Luke's  Hall,  Amsterdam,  and  he  was 
crowned  with  laurel  and  made  king  of  the  feast. 
To  his  contemporaries,  Vondel  must  have  ap- 
peared veritably  immortal,  for  in  his  eighty- 
seventh  year  he  was  still  writing,  and  not  until 
he  was  ninety-one  years  old  did  he  pay  the  debt 
to  mortality. 


''Adam  in  Ballingschap/'  Vondel  167 

In  the  great  tomes  that  preserve  for  posterity 
his  work  there  are  two  separate  tragedies  upon 
the  themes  that  are  combined  in  Paradise  Lost. 
Vondel  knew  well  the  work  of  Grotius  ^  and 
there  are  points  of  resemblance  in  the  two  tra- 
gedies, the  A  damns  Exsul  of  Grotius  and  Adam 
in  Ballingschap  of  Vondel ;  but  on  close  observ- 
ation the  differences  are  more  prominent  than 
the  signs  of  similarity. 

1. — In  Adam  in  Ballingschap,  the  good  and  the 
bad  angels  are  more  conspicuous  and  play 
a  more  important  part  in  the  plot. 
S. — This  aids  the  reader  to  a  clearer  compre- 
hension of  the  dignity  and  beauty  of  Adam 
and  Eve  in  their  hours  of  innocence. 
3. — The  time  of  the  play,  Adam  in  Ballingschap, 
is  clearly  defined ;  it  is  less  than  a  day  and 
that   the   first   day   of   Adam's    and   Eve's 
"  joyous    entry "    into   Paradise,    the   day 
of  the  celebration  of  their  wedding. 
In  Act  I,  Lucifer  rises   from   the  abyss   at 
early  dawn.     He  declares  his  thirst  for  venge- 
ance on  God  for  his  banishment  from  heaven, 
but  he  admits  that  there  is  need  of  the  utmost 
secrecy,    for    this    second   attempt   against   the 

*  Vondei  translated  Adamus  Exsul  into  Dutch.  See 
collected  works  of  Vondel. 


i68    The  Epic  of  Paradise  Lost 

majesty  of  God  must  not  fail,  as  did  the  first 
trial  in  the  battle  in  heaven.  God,  out  of  his 
vanity,  has  now  created  man  and  placed  him  in 
a  garden  full  of  beauty,  but  has  been  foolish 
enough  to  put  there  the  means  of  man's  over- 
throw in  the  forbidden  tree  of  knowledge. 
Surely  God  is  selfish  and  cares  only  for  his 
own  glory.  At  this  point  in  his  soliloquy, 
Lucifer  sees  Adam  and  Eve  approaching  and 
he  hides. 

Unmindful  of  any  lurking  foe,  Adam  and  Eve 
walk  down  the  garden  path;  enthusiastic  as 
they  are  over  the  beauty  of  nature,  they  sug- 
gest singing;  the  question  of  a  subject  is  dis- 
cussed and  Eve  decides  upon  a  hymn  in  the 
praise  of  God.  A  chorus  of  guardian  angels 
join  them.  There  are  three  songs  and  a 
*'  tegenzang." 

In  Act  II,  Gabriel,  Rafael,  and  Michael  ap- 
pear flying  toward  the  earth.  They  rejoice  in 
the  beauty  of  Paradise  and  they  note  the  fact 
that  the  name  Eden  is  given,  in  appreciation 
of  the  beauty  of  the  garden.  They  reveal  in 
their  conversation  that  the  object  of  their  visit 
is  to  express  their  greetings  to  Adam  and  Eve, 
on  the  occasion  of  their  wedding  and  man's 
joyous    entry   into   his    estate,   as    lord   of   the 


**Adam  in  Ballingschap/'  Vondel  169 

garden.  Gabriel  assigns  to  his  companions  their 
part  in  the  ceremonious  visit — Rafael  is  to 
bear  the  wedding  wreaths  of  laurel  adorned  with 
rubies  and  diamonds;  for  here  as  elsewhere, 
Dutch  customs  of  wedding  fetes  are  intro- 
duced. 

The  solemn  marriage  feast  is  to  be  spread 
for  Adam,  and  throughout  this  scene  there  is 
s  apparent  the  utmost  reverence  for  man's  dig- 
nity,— indeed  the  reader  feels  that  the  angels 
regard  Adam  as  a  little  their  superior.  That 
there  may  be  no  disturbance  of  the  festivities, 
Gabriel  directs  Michael  to  remain  on  guard,  to 
protect  Adam  and  Eve  from  hellish  spirits  who 
may  be  plotting. 

Adam  and  Eve  watch  the  three  angels  ap- 
proaching, and  rejoice  in  their  iridescent  beauty 
of  colour  and  their  heavenly  grace  in  motion. 
As  they  meet  the  angels,  Adam  is  very  dignified, 
but  with  stately  cordiality  he  invites  them  to 
remain  to  the  wedding  feast.  Gabriel  makes  a 
fitting  reply,  addressing  Adam  as  "  lord  of 
these  possessions  by  the  grace  of  God,"  and 
directs  Rafael  to  place  the  crowns  on  their 
heads.  The  reader  is  impressed  by  the  good 
manners  in  Eden.  Adam  expresses  his  grati- 
tude to  God,   for  the   delightful  home   in   the 


lyo     The  Epic  of  Paradise  Lost 

garden  of  Eden  and  for  the  charming  compan- 
ion he  finds  in  Eve.  Throughout  this  scene 
there  is  an  atmosphere  of  a  great  occasion  be- 
fitting the  entrance  into  a  kingdom. 

Now  Adam  calls  upon  the  guardian  angels 
and  the  birds  to  join  in  a  song  for  the  pleasure 
of  the  guests;  meanwhile  he  directs  all  the  ani- 
mals to  be  quiet  and  listen. 

These  songs,  like  the  classic  chorus,  are  im- 
portant for  the  development  of  the  plot;  for 
they  contain  premonitions  of  evil.  There  are 
in  the  chorus  two  "  zang,"  two  "  tegenzang," 
and  a  "  toezang."  In  every  one  of  these  songs 
there  is  reference  to  present  innocence  and  bliss : 
and  to  the  great  loss  to  man  if  evil  should  enter 
the  human  heart.     For  example: 

If  mankind  lost  this  gift,  this  privilege, 

And  had  to  depend  on  human  power  alone, 

Nature  could  not  alone  support  him. 

The  wedding  garment  would  be  in  tatters,  his  glory 

would  pass  away, 
Cherubim  would  grow  pale  at  the  thought. 

Line  510— 

In  the  angel  songs,  there  is  recognition  of  the 
gift  of  eternal  youth  to  Adam  and  Eve,  also 
of  the  quality  of  an  angel  and  of  a  beast 
joined  in  man,  and  there  is  a  definite  warning 
at  the  end — 


*'Adam  in  Ballingschap/*  Vondel  171 

"Preserve  your  privileges, 

Maintain  the  task  imposed, 

Then  no  enemy  can  molest  you, 

You  may  hold  yourself  safe  from  injury  and  grief." 

Throughout  the  tragedy,  there  is  prominent 
the  Dutch  seventeenth-century  idea  of  feudal 
government.  Adam  holds  his  possession  by 
the  grace  of  God,  he  has  sworn  fealty  and  he 
loses  all  if  he  breaks  his  oath. 

In  Act  III,  Lucifer  stamps  on  the  ground 
and  calls  up  from  hell  Asmode  to  assist  him  in 
devising  a  scheme  for  man's  overthrow.  The 
nature  of  their  plot  may  be  best  understood  by 
a  quotation  from  the  text,  Lucifer  says: 

"We  will,  like  bandits,  eternally  strive  against  God ; 
We  will  by  plot  and  guile  work  against  God  ;  if  we  can- 
not conquer. 
We  will  at  least  worry  him." 

But  to  our  surprise,  Asmode  soon  takes  the  lead, 
while  Lucifer's  suggestions  seem  futile  and  al- 
together the  would-be  Prince  of  Darkness  is 
dependent  upon  his  confederate.  Asmode  ad- 
vises the  use  of  the  forbidden  fruit  to  work 
man's  woe.  Lucifer  objects  that  this  is  too 
open  an  attack;  and  begs  Asmode  to  think  of 
a  slower,  safer  plan,  for  there  is  fear  of  Michael 
and  the  heavenly  guard  for  the  wedding  feast. 
In  fact,  he  reflects  that  there  is  likely  at  this 


172     The  Epic  of  Paradise  Lost 

time  to  be  a  special  vigilance  on  the  part  of  the 
good  angels,  and  an  evil  spirit  might  be  quickly 
dragged  from  cover.  Asmode  suggests  that 
the  tempter  should  take  the  shape  of  an  animal 
to  avoid  discovery;  after  some  discussion  of  the 
form  of  disguise  of  the  elephant,  of  the  eagle, 
of  the  dragon,  the  snake  is  finally  decided  upon ; 
for  its  natural  sly  qualities  are  well  suited  to  the 
guileful  purpose  of  Satan.  Asmode  also  sug- 
gests approaching  Adam  and  Eve,  not  together, 
but  separately  and  strongly  advises  tempting 
first  the  woman.  He  reasons  that  she  may  fall 
more  easily,  and  if  she  should  fall,  man  would 
not  hesitate  to  join  her  in  her  sin.  Lucifer 
does  not  approve  of  attempting  first  the  woman ; 
for  he  thinks  it  is  important  that  man  should 
be  corrupted  without  delay.  Asmode  urges 
that  "A  little  fondness  for  dainty  things  "  can 
win  women  over  through  sight,  taste,  and 
smell,  and  he  contends  that  since  she  is  the 
easier  victim,  she  shall  fall  first.  He  also  re- 
calls to  mind  that  the  angels  fell  through  am- 
bition to  equal  God,  and  it  will  be  worth  while 
to  attempt  to  stir  the  same  ambition  in  Adam. 
Lucifer  offers  to  call  up  from  the  abyss  as 
many  spirits  as  are  necessary  to  execute  As- 
mode's  design,  a  whole  regiment  shall  quickly 


'*Adam  in  Ballingschap/'  Vondel  173 

appear  if  desired;  but  his  accomplice  assures 
the  archfiend  that  his  armour-bearer,  Behal, 
is  well  fitted  for  the  undertaking,  and  the  serv- 
ice of  no  other  spirit  is  needed.  BeHal  is  now 
summoned  and  given  the  task  of  tempting  Eve 
with  the  fruit  of  the  forbidden  tree. 

Meanwhile  the  wedding  feast  has  been  in 
progress  and  now  the  guests  are  departing. 
There  is  the  atmosphere  of  reminiscent  joy  and 
Adam  and  Eve  sing  in  response  to  the  farewell 
of  the  angels.  When  now  Eve  suggests  leaving 
Adam  for  a  little,  he  is  unwilling  and  together 
they  watch  the  angels  depart  and  wing  their 
way  out  of  sight.  Eve  recalls  the  angels'  con- 
versation, "  which  pushed  back,"  she  says,  "  the 
veil  from  human  faces  and  showed  them  God 
and  heaven." 

They  dwell  with  joy  upon  the  invitation 
given  by  the  departing  angels  to  meet  them  at 
a  heavenly  feast,  which  will  be  a  stately  return 
of  courtesies.  Adam  and  Eve  rejoice  in  their 
happy  lot  and  she  in  a  burst  of  spontaneous  en- 
thusiasm assures  him  that  she  will  delight  in 
carrying  out  his  wishes  in  all  things;  no  com- 
mand of  his  can  be  a  burden;  but  he  rejoins 
that  the  weaker  is  stronger,  as  the  lioness  rules 
the  lion,  so  he  feels  her  sway.     Adam  now  pro- 


1 74    The  Epic  of  Paradise  Lost 

poses  seeking  solitude  for  a  moment  to  pray  to 
God,  and  Eve  decides  to  sit  at  the  foot  of  a 
tree  to  wait  for  him. 

When  Eve  is  left  alone,  Belial  at  once  creeps 
up  in  the  form  of  a  snake,  and  compliments  Eve 
on  her  surpassing  beauty;  he  expatiates  on  her 
magnetic  power  over  butterflies,  dolphins,  uni- 
corns ;  like  these,  he  also  feels  her  marvellous 
influence.  He  thus  gains  her  attention  and  then 
he  asks  abruptly,  "  Have  you  noticed  these 
apples  full  of  wisdom.''  I  will  pluck  some  for 
you.'' 

Eve  commands  him  to  be  silent;  the  fruit  is 
forbidden.  Belial  is  greatly  surprised,  he  had 
supposed  that  Adam  and  Eve  were  in  abso- 
lute possession  of  the  garden.  The  prohibition 
upon  this  fruit  is  contrary  to  right  and  reason; 
the  apple  is  not  baleful  but  will  give  eternal 
youth.  When  Eve  remains  firm  in  her  belief 
that  the  command  of  God  is  to  be  respected,  the 
serpent  urges  that  the  fear  of  the  apple  is  mere 
superstition;  God  could  create  nothing  evil. 
No  meat  nor  drink  made  by  God  can  injure  the 
body,  much  less  can  the  soul  be  harmed  by  a 
material  thing. 

Eve  now  begins  to  doubt  the  grounds  of  the 
prohibition  of  God,  and  Belial  offers  to  explain ; 


'*Adam  in  Ballingschap/'  Vondel  175 

but  it  is  dangerous  to  tell  the  secrets  of  the 
Almighty,  and  she  must  promise  to  be  very 
prudent  and  not  to  tell.  The  fact  is,  God  is 
jealous  of  the  power  that  Eve  would  have  if 
she  ate  that  apple  of  wisdom,  "  for  you  would 
then  be  equal  with  God." 

"  Only  an  apple  peel  protects  God !  "  he  de- 
clares with  a  sneer.  "  Here,  take  the  fruit  be- 
fore any  one  comes  " ;  he  adds  flippantly,  "  I 
will  shake  the  tree  and  let  divinity  fall  into  your 
lap." 

Eve  expresses  fear,  but  the  apple  is  attrac- 
tive, she  plucks  and  eats. 

Belial  exclaims,  "  Here  comes  Adam,  he  is 
apparently  excited.  Shall  he  be  bidden  to  the 
feast.'' — how  can  he  refuse  what  his  bride  asks, — 
I  will  help  you  win  him  over." 

Adam  approaches,  soliloquising  upon  his 
secret  communion  with  God.  At  length  he 
notices  Eve  and  she  is  eating  some  fruit ;  he  is  at 
once  apprehensive.  By  degrees  he  learns  that 
she  has  taken  the  forbidden  fruit,  which  she 
pertly  declares  is  "  all  the  more  to  be  desired, 
because  it  is  forbidden."  When  Adam  laments 
over  her  disobedience  to  the  divine  command, 
she  assures  him  that  she  understands  matters 
far  better  than  he  does.     She  is  persuaded  that 


1 76    The  Epic  of  Paradise  Lost 

he  is  superstitious,  he  must  be  cured  of  that 
weakness ;  she  offers  him  the  fruit  as  a  first 
gift  to  her  husband, — "  Taste,  and  then  judge 
with  understanding,"  she  urges. 

When  Adam  resists,  she  becomes  petulent  and 
imperious. 

**  Will  you  oppose  my  wishes?  this  does  not  bring 
love.  You  did  not  promise  to  behave  like  this.  Bear 
yourself  like  a  man.  Take  God's  own  gift ;  by  it  shall 
you  mount  to  the  stars.  Use  your  own  free  will  and 
show  me  the  first  token  of  love,  in  obeying  my  first 
request.    Your  acquiescence  brings  peace  between  us." 

Adam  now  shows  a  quick  change  of  atti- 
tude. "  What  a  change  " — he  exclaims  "  to 
use  free  will,  instead  of  dragging  the  yoke  of 
obedience !  " 

Eve  boldly  sets  herself  up  as  a  divinity. 
**  Use  your  own  free  will,"  she  urges :  "  here 
earthly  gods  prevail." 

Although  Adam  sees  the  attraction  of  the 
fruit,  he  still  fears  God's  displeasure  and  cries 
out  against  the  unnatural  contest :  "  Shall  I 
lose  for  ever  the  love  of  my  wife,  or  turn  the 
mercy  of  God  into  unmercy  ?  "  He  decides  that 
it  must  be  a  separation  from  Eve,  rather  than 
from  God. 

At  this  decision  Eve  becomes  more  imperious 
and  exclaims,  "  You  break  at  once  the  bonds  of 


*'Adam  in  Ballingschap/'  Vondel  177 

marriage.  .  .  .  You  can  devote  yourself  to 
naming  the  animal  and  get  on  without  a  wife. 
.  .  .  Your  heart  will  turn  to  ice  " — and  she 
bids  him  farewell  and  hastily  leaves  him. 

Adam  begs  her  to  wait  a  moment,  but  over 
her  shoulder  as  she  departs  she  asks  coldly, 
"  Why  ?  " — "  We  are  already  parted,  you  have 
never  really  loved  me.  Who  is  mated  without 
love  can  separate  without  pain.  May 
the  Almighty  shape  you  another  wife,  but  if 
you  cannot  love  her  better,  remain 
unmarried." 

Adam  cries  out  in  agony,  "  How  can  I  serve 
God  and  you!  Father,  can  you  forgive  me  this 
one  misstep,  that  I  for  a  moment  content  my 
wife.J^  this  is  only  a  flag  of  truce.  Give  me  the 
apple  God  will  take  away  the  venom  from 
my  disobedience." 

Adam  eats  the  apple  and  hears  at  once  the 
wail  from  the  angel  chorus.  Eve  asks,  "  Why 
do  you  look  so  pale?  I  alone  bear  the  burden 
of  this  act  upon  my  soul." 

The  chorus  philosophises  upon  knowledge, — 

**  Divinity  knows  itself,  therefore  knowledge  is  divine, 
God  would  not  exclude  any  one  from  mercy  for  a  desire 

for  knowledge. 
He  planted  the  tree,  but  those  who  seek  the  fruit  in  de- 
fiance 


1 78    The  Epic  of  Paradise  Lost 

Are  wrongly  wise.    There  is  the  difference  between  wis- 
dom rightly  and  wrongly  won." 

Act  V,  scene  i. — ^Lucifer  congratulates  As- 
mode  upon  his  victory,  and  Asmode  depicts  to 
Lucifer  the  present  condition  of  Adam  and  Eve. 
They  are  hiding  in  a  wood  and  Eden  rings  with 
complaints  and  recriminations.  Adam  cries 
out, 

**  I  gave  ear  not  to  my  bride  but  to  an  enemy.  Alas, 
this  comes  from  love  of  a  woman.  Woman's  love  cost 
me  too  much.  I  would  not  strike  my  flag  before  God's 
wisdom  and  ambition  has  caused  my  fall." — **The  flesh 
now  wars  with  the  spirit  in  my  members." 

Lucifer  reviles  God,  who  makes  laws  in  order 
to  see  them  broken. 

*  *  I  shall  now  sow  churches  to  spite  him.  Man  shall  bow 
to  idols  and  shall  swear  by  the  divinities  of  hell.  I  ex- 
change now  the  burden  of  the  origin  of  evil  from  my 
neck  to  the  neck  of  my  enemy.  Out  of  sixty  centuries, 
God  will  scarcely  get  a  handful  of  souls.  So  I  mount 
higher  by  my  fall."  .  .  .  "  God  will  now  repent  that 
he  ever  made  man." 

In  scene  ii,  Adam  and  Eve  still  lament  their 
fate  and  quarrel  with  one  another.  Adam 
blames  his  wife  and  deplores  his  marriage  with 
her.  Eve  inquires  what  was  his  object  in  mar- 
rying her,  and  when  she  learns  that  it  was  to 
gain  a  helpmate,  she  feels  that  he  was  respon- 
sible for  the  fall,  in  not  setting  a  good  example. 


''Adam  in  Ballingschap/'  Vondel  1 79 

She  reminds  him  that,  "A  man  should  be  strong 
in  sturdy  piety  and  not  yield  to  the  prayer  or 
the  threats  of  a  woman." 

But  there  comes  a  sudden  change  of  mood 
and  she  is  gentle  and  penitent  and  promises  to 
deal  no  more  in  reproaches,  but  to  try  to  com- 
fort him.  Adam  rejects  all  of  her  consolation 
and  calls  upon  Mother  Earth  to  receive  him, 
for  "  Timely  dies  he,  who  has  no  more  to  hope." 
He  is  sure  that  he  has  lived  already  too  long, 
and  to  Eve's  great  distress  he  dwells  persistently 
upon  the  different  ways  open  to  him  of  taking 
his  life. 

Eve  seeks  to  divert  his  purpose  to  commit 
suicide,  and  begs  him  not  to  leave  her  alone  in 
the  garden.  Adam  is  very  severe  upon  her  and 
implies  that  remaining  with  her  is  no  induce- 
ment to  live,  for  he  declares,  "  You  are  the 
snake  that  gave  me  the  blow  of  death." 

Eve  is  very  humble  and  begs  to  be  allowed 
to  die  with  him  and  at  length  Adam  is  softened 
by  her  misery  and  relents.  He  comforts  Eve 
with  these  kind  words — 

**  My  love,  it  was  my  fault ;  I  will  prolong  my  life  for 

love  of  you, 
You  shall  not  weep  on  your  wedding  day,  alone." 

A  storm  of  wind  springs  up  suddenly  with 


i8o    The  Epic  of  Paradise  Lost 

thunder  and  lightning  and  "  divinity  comes." 
Adam  and  Eve  cry  out  and  are  beside  them- 
selves with  terror.  Uriel  appears,  as  the  judge 
sent  by  God,  and  "  In  God's  name,"  he  pro- 
nounces the  sentence  upon  them.  Uriel  an- 
nounces to  them  this  comfort :  "  But  ye  shall  see 
that  God  places  mercy  above  justice,"  and  there 
follows  the  prophecy  of  Christ's  coming,  bom 
of  a  woman.  Otherwise,  the  sentence  does  not 
materially  differ  from  that  pronounced  in  the 
judgment  scene  in  Adamus  Exsul,  the  work  of 
Grotius. 

The  culprits  are  now  expelled  from  the  gar- 
den of  Eden,  and  Eve  laments  the  loss  of  Eden 
and  the  consummation  of  her  bridal  song  in  the 
flames  of  Paradise  but  Adam  is  lost  to  present 
discomfort  in  pondering  the  purport  of  the  di- 
vine message;  he  is  convinced  that  it  was  not 
Uriel,  but  God  himself,  who  had  appeared  to 
punish  them  "  for  seeking  to  soar  above  human 
limits."  And  Adam  at  length  bids  farewell  to 
Eden  in  these  words: 

"  Farewell,  Paradise,  we  must  turn  from  thy 
gates  to  seek  dry  and  thirsty  lands.  Summer 
is  past;  winter  is  come." 

Adam's  lament  closes  the  tragedy  without  a 


*'Adam  in  Ballingschap/' Vondel  i8i 

chorus  of  the  angels.  We  are  given  to  under- 
stand that  the  heavenly  host  has  fled  from  Eden 
after  man's  fall. 

There  are  features  here  that  are  more  attrac- 
tive than  anything  in  A  damns  Exsul,  in  some 
respects.  The  machinery  is  better  balanced, 
the  innocence  of  Adam  and  Eve  is  more  charm- 
ingly depicted,  and  there  is  a  tragic  force  in 
the  reiteration  of  the  thought  that  the  joyous 
entry  into  their  possessions  in  Eden,  their  wed- 
ding feast,  important  both  in  Paradise  and  in 
heaven,  and  their  unhappy  fall  and  expulsion 
from  their  kingdom,  all  happen  between  dawn 
and  twilight ;  so  quickly  was  their  "  summer 
past." 

The  choruses  have  elevation  of  tone  and  con- 
vey thoughts  that  are  needed  for  a  correct  in- 
terpretation of  the  events,  as  the  author  views 
them.  Indeed,  the  chorus  plays  thus,  in  part  the 
office  of  the  narrator  in  the  epic.  In  these  points, 
the  tragedy  is  superior  to  Adamus  Exsul. 

Adam  and  Eve  are  very  attractive  in  their 
hours  of  innocence.  They  carry  with  them  the 
atmosphere  of  spring  as  they  traverse  the 
shady  walks  of  Paradise  singing  to  the  re- 
sponse of  the  angels,  or  of  the  birds,  but  their 


1 82    The  Epic  of  Paradise  Lost 

joy  is  saved  from  exuberance,  by  a  pleasing 
dignity,  a  consciousness  of  their  high  destiny, 
and  of  their  kinship  with  God.  Their  associa- 
tion with  the  angels  is  characterised  by  stateli- 
ness  without  stiffness,  and  the  reports  of  their 
conversation  with  the  angels  are  vivid  and  free 
from  didacticism  and  from  improbability. 

The  fall  seems  not  so  well  managed.  Belial 
is  flippant  and  has  an  air  of  not  needing  to 
exert  himself,  for  his  task  is  easy;  nor  are  we 
greatly  impressed  with  the  resistance  of  Eve. 

Wherein  Belial's  plea  has  merit,  the  argu- 
ments seem  to  have  been  learned  from  the  Satan 
in  A  damns  Exsul.  When  Adam  returns  from 
his  secret  communion  with  God,  Belial  turns 
from  Eve  to  look  at  him  but  shows  no  anxiety 
at  the  important  approaching  struggle,  for  he 
still  seems  jestingly,  mockingly,  at  ease;  this 
degrades  the  dignity  of  the  contest  between 
good  and  evil  and  makes  Adam  seem  a  less  im- 
portant personage  even  before  his  fall  than  the 
plot  should  demand. 

When  Adam  reaches  her,  at  the  foot  of  the 
tree  of  knowledge.  Eve  is  no  longer  the  high- 
bom  lady  that  he  had  left  a  few  moments  before. 
He  finds  her  indeed  changed  into  a  pert,  un- 
refined  type   of   woman ;   wilful   and   assertive, 


'*Adam  in  Ballingschap/'  Vondel  183 

personal  and  theatrical.  Her  fall  seemed  too 
easily  accomplished  in  the  first  place,  so  does 
Adam's  in  the  second  place.  Her  wiles,  we  feel, 
would  mildly  disgust  the  well-bred  Adam  of  the 
earlier  acts  who  received  the  angels  as  his  fitting 
guests.  The  double  motive  for  the  fall  of 
Adam,  in  ambition,  and  in  a  hopeless  contest  be- 
tween love  and  duty,  both  appear  here  as  in 
Adamus  Exsul,  but  Vondel  has  prepared  for  this 
duality  in  the  conclusion,  by  a  more  carefully 
suggested  dual  motive  earlier  in  the  action. 
Ambition  is  not,  however,  so  prominent  as  love 
for  Eve,  and  ambition  still  seems  forced  upon 
our  attention  through  assertion  rather  than 
evident  in  the  action. 

The  reasonable  sensitiveness  of  characters 
new  to  sin  is  preserved  by  the  treatment  of  the 
sincere  penitence  of  both  before  "  divinity 
comes,"  but  there  is  loss  of  dignity,  one  may 
feel,  in  the  prolonged  quarrel  of  Adam  and  Eve 
in  the  first  and  second  scenes  of  the  fifth  act, 
and  by  the  harshness  of  their  utterances  to  one 
another.  There  is  in  this  family  quarrel  a 
suggestion  of  the  early  comedy.  It  would  be 
difficult  not  to  arouse  satirical  laughter  in  an 
audience  by  presenting  this  scene,  and  that 
marks  a  defect  in  the  method  of  the  tragedy. 


1 84    The  Epic  of  Paradise  Lost 

There  is  a  gain  in  Vondel's  tragedy  over  the 
treatment  of  Grotius  in  the  judgment  scene,  in 
the  fact  that  mercy  is  emphasised  as  above  jus- 
tice, for  when  justice  and  mercy  are  not  repre- 
sented as  identical,  this  is  a  wiser  course. 

The  sending  of  Uriel  as  a  delegated  judge 
marks  a  connecting  link  between  this  tragedy 
of  Vondel  and  his  other  great  tragedy,  Lucifer, 
and  reminds  us  that,  according  to  Vondel's 
scheme,  the  battle  of  the  angelic  hosts  of  heaven 
under  Michael  against  the  fallen  angels  under 
Lucifer  was  carried  far  outside  the  ramparts  of 
heaven.  A  messenger  returning  to  heaven  an- 
nounces to  the  waiting  angels  the  victory  of 
Michael  and  recounts  the  Homeric  exploits  of 
the  heroes  in  the  combat,  but  in  the  midst  of  the 
rejoicing,  Gabriel  arrives  with  the  lament — 
*^  Our  triumph  is  in  vain — Oh,  Adam  's  fallen !  " 

Lucifer,  then,  we  are  given  to  understand, 
before  he  could  be  sealed  in  hell,  had  speedily 
accomplished  this  act  of  revenge  on  God,  so 
that  news  of  the  victory  is  blended  with  the 
news  of  the  defeat;  and  Uriel  is  sent  at  once  to 
execute  the  orders  for  the  expulsion  of  Adam 
and  Eve  from  Paradise.  As  we  shall  see,  Luci- 
fer of  the  Morning  Star  is  inconceivably 
changed  in  this  short  space  of  time.     Indeed  the^ 


*' Adam  in  Ballingschap,"  Vondel  185 

characterisation  of  Lucifer  is  one  of  the  weak- 
est points  in  Adam  in  Ballings  chap. 

Although  he  comes  himself  to  Eden  to  spy 
upon  Adam  and  Eve,  and  to  bring  about  their 
overthrow,  he  seems  incapable  of  either  devis- 
ing or  of  executing  the  plot  but  he'  calls  up 
Asmode  to  help  him.  This  device,  at  first 
sight,  appears  a  very  clever  stroke  on  the  part 
of  Vondel,  for  Asmode,  the  fiend  opposed  to  the 
peace  of  the  home,  is  an  appropriate  schemer 
against  the  bliss  of  Edeil  on  Adam  and  Eve's 
wedding  day.^  But  when  Asmode  comes  to  Lu- 
cifer he  takes  the  helm,  and  his  chief's  sugges- 
tions are  so  weak  and  futile  that  they  are  wisely 
overruled  by  his  more  skilful  subordinate.  As- 
mode, in  turn,  delegates  the  execution  of  the 
perfected  plot  to  Belial,  so  that  Lucifer's  share 
in  man's  fall  seems  in  Adam  in  Ballingschap 
both  indirect  and  remote.  If  this  tragedy  is 
read  in  sequence  with  Vondel's  Lucifer ^  the 
weakening  of  the  fallen  archangel  from  the 
mightiest  and  fairest  of  the  princes  of  heaven 
is  inconceivable  in  the  few  intervening  hours 
of  Vondel's  chronology.        Milton's  conception 

^  Asmode,  prominent  in  spectacular  open  air  perform- 
ances—early became  a  character  for  comedy.  Asmodius 
is  a  character  in  the  apocryphal  book  of  Tobit,  a  fiend 
opposed  to  the  peace  of  the  home. 


1 86     The  Epic  of  Paradise  Lost 

that  he  had  not  yet  lost  all  of  his  original 
brightness  is  far  more  convincing.  Nor  is  it 
reasonable  to  believe  that  the  slow-witted  Luci- 
fer of  Adam  in  Ballingschap  could  rule  the 
denizens   of   hell. 

Vondel  has  shown  himself  able  to  handle  di- 
vine machinery  in  the  tragedy  of  Lucifer;  why 
has  the  defect  arisen  here.^* 

Is  it  not  reasonable  to  suppose  that  these 
considerations  influenced  him?  He  intended 
this  tragedy  to  be  placed  on  the  stage  and  he 
was  somewhat  guided  by  stage  traditions  of 
Satan,  for  the  problem  confronted  him,  how 
are  spirits  and  mortals  to  be  presented  on  the 
same  stage  in  artistic  harmony.'^  He  may 
have  felt  that  the  nearer  the  fiends  were  brought 
to  base  man,  the  more  they  would  blend  in 
artistic  detail  with  the  human  plot.  At  all 
events,  that  is  what  he  has  done,  and  there  is 
a  corresponding  loss  to  the  successful  develop- 
ment of  his  theme.  In  the  Lucifer  his  prob- 
lem was  somewhat  different,  for  the  tragedy 
moved  on  the  stage  of  heaven. 

Has  not  the  Adam  in  Ballingschap  lost  by 
not  being  kept  epical  in  elevation,  while  the 
tragedy  of  Lucifer  is  successful  in  so  far  as  it 
is  epical.'^ 


'*Adam  in  Ballingschap/*  Vondel  187 

The  defect  of  Adam  in  Ballingschap  lies  in  a 
realism  that  is  out  of  harmony  with  the  theme 
and  causes  loss  in  dignity  in  scene,  and  reason- 
ableness in  characterisation,  as  well  as  con- 
vincing power  in  the  conclusion.  The  theme 
required  the  elevation  of  the  epic,  the  epic 
background,  and  the  epic  method,  both  for  the 
dignity  of  the  thought  and  for  the  character 
development. 


VIII 

**L'ADAMO,"  ANDREINI 

THE  tragedies  examined  in  the  last  two 
essays  incurred  failure  in  the  presenta- 
tion of  the  theme  of  the  origin  of  evil  on  earth, 
through  too  great  concreteness :  the  operatic 
type  of  tragedy  by  Andreini  now  before  us 
has  not  that  defect  in  so  marked  a  degree; 
but  its  chief  fault  is  an  element  of  grotesque- 
ness  that  is  out  of  harmony  with  the  dignity 
of  the  theme. 

This  play,  which  appeared  in  1613,  is  a  work 
extraordinarily  interesting  for  a  number  of 
reasons  aside  from  any  merit  in  the  drama 
itself.  In  fact  UAdamo,^  Sacra  Rappresen- 
tazione  of  Giovanni  Battista  Andreini,  is  not 
the  highest  development  of  a  not  thoroughly  ar^ 
tistic  dramatic  form. 

The  sacra  rappresentazione  was  a  fifteenth- 
century  development  in  Italy  of  the  earlier 
miracle    play.     The    motive    was    usually    re- 

1  See  bibliography  at  the  end  of  this  volume. 

i88 


''  UAdamo,"  Andreini         189 

llglous,  the  style  declamatory,,  and  there  was  a 
multiplicity  of  marvellous  scenes  from  biblical 
subjects  or  from  ecclesiastical  legend  to  de- 
light and  amaze  the  spectators.  This  style 
of  play  became  very  popular  in  Florence,  and 
throughout  Italy,  and  thousands  were  pro- 
duced before  the  end  of  the  seventeenth  century. 
Crude  as  they  often  were  and  devoid  of  all 
literary  merit,  such  was  not  always  the  case,  for 
Lorenzo  de'  Medici  and  Politian  both  employed 
their  elegant  style  upon  this  hybrid  type  of 
play.  Music  was  early  introduced  as  an  ac- 
companiment, and  the  rappresentazione  very 
naturally  merged  itself  in  the  Italian  opera  of 
the  seventeenth  and   eighteenth   centuries. 

The  author  of  UAdamo  was  a  comedian  as 
well  as  a  playwright;  and  he  was  the  son  of  a 
celebrated  comedian,  who  was  also  an  author 
and  a  leader  of  a  travelling  company  of  ac- 
tors. Although  he  enjoyed  a  passing  fame  there 
are  proofs  that  neither  Giovanni  Battista  An- 
dreini nor  his  tragedy  VAdamo  made  any  last- 
ing impression  upon  the  age  or  upon  the  nation 
that  produced  them.  Italian  scholars  to-day 
in  both  histories  of  the  drama  and  of  literature 
omit  the  work  altogether,  or  give  it  brief  men- 
tion   only.     From    the    standpoint    of    Italian 


igo    The  Epic  of  Paradise  Lost 

literature,  the  play  has,  however,  critical  in- 
terest, in  its  not  infrequent  touches  of  Ma- 
rinism;  and  in  the  history  of  the  drama,  it  is 
worthy  of  note  as  the  only  sacra  rappresenta- 
zione  extant  that  approached  the  Spanish  auto 
in  its  treatment  of  abstract  subjects.  For 
this  reason,  VAdamo  to-day  merits  the  char- 
acterisation  of   "  an   isolated   eccentricity."  ^ 

From  the  utterance  of  Voltaire  in  "  Essai  sur 
la  poesie  epique,"  and  from  the  various  com- 
ments made  from  time  to  time  upon  that  ut- 
terance, there  are  reasons  for  believing  that 
UAdamo  has  had  a  degree  of  publicity  outside 
of  Italy  since  the  first  quarter  of  the  eighteenth 
century  that  surpassed  any  interest  it  has 
ever  aroused  in  the  land  of  its  birth.  It  is 
significant  that  Mickle,  writing  in  1775,  ex- 
pressed grave  doubts  as  to  the  existence  of 
either  the  play,  UAdamOy  or  of  the  author, 
Andreini,  outside  of  the  fertile  fancy  of  Vol- 
taire. Doctor  Johnson  dubs  Voltaire's  account 
"  a  wild,  unauthorised  story " ;  but  Doctor 
Warton  gave  a  summary  of  VAdamo  in  his 
essay  on  the  Genius  and  Writings  of  Pope  in 
178S,  and  Hayley  made  the  analysis  of  every 
ftct  and  scene,  which  was  included  in  the  fourth 
^  Piven  b^  Dr,  Garjiett, 


*' UAdamo,"  Andreini        191 

edition  ^  of  the  Poetical  Works  of  John  Milton 
in  six  volumes,  edited  by  Rev.  Henry  John 
Todd,  and  thence  it  took  its  place  in  the  lit- 
erature connected  with  the  study  of  Paradise 
Lost. 

The  substance  of  Voltaire's  comment,  it 
seems  to  us,  to-day,  need  not  to  have  hurt  the 
sensitive  feelings  of  the  lovers  of  Milton  in  the 
eighteenth  century.  He  declares  his  belief  that 
Milton  saw  the  poor  attempt  of  Andreini;  he 
saw,  too,  the  possibilities  of  the  story  and  re- 
solved to  try  a  better  development  of  the  art 
themes  involved  in  that  subject.  Our  interest, 
to-day,  is  not  to  find  out  what  Milton  borrowed 
from  an  obscure  and  unskilful  poet,  but  to  note 
what  light  is  thrown  by  UAdamo  upon  the  ar- 
tistic treatment  demanded  by  the  subject  itself. 
To  discover  this,  the  summaries  hitherto  given 
are  inadequate  ^  and  we  must  turn  to  the 
original  work. 

The  Sacra  Rap  pre  sent  azione,  UAdamo,  is  a 
play     in     five     acts     distributed     in     forty-six 
scenes  with  the  following  cast  of  characters: 
(1) — God  the  Father,  the  Archangel  Michael 

« Introduction. 

'  Hayley  is  frequently  inaccurate,  and  changes  the 
purport  of  entire  scenes. 


192     The  Epic  of  Paradise  Lost 

and  a  Chorus  of  Seraphim,  of  Cherubim, 
and  the  Angels,  a  Cherub,  on  the  side  of 
the  heavenly  forces. 
(2) — Adam,   Eve — for   the   human    characters. 
(3) — ^Lucifer,  Satan,  Beelzebub,  Seven  Deadly 
Sins,    the    World,    the    Flesh,    Famine, 
Labour,    Despair,     Death,     Vain-glory, 
Serpent,   Volano,   Chorus   of  Phantoms, 
a  Chorus  of  Spirits,  of  fire,  air,  earth, 
and  water — for  the  infernal  forces. 
There  is  noticeable  here  an  odd  lack  of  dis- 
crimination in  the  characters;  for  instance  the 
distinction  made  in  the  name  of  Lucifer  and  of 
Satan,  as  two  names  for  the  same  fallen  arch- 
angel, is  disregarded,  and  there  is  further  confu- 
sion in  the  Serpent  as  a  character  not  identical 
with   Belial,   as   in  Adam  in  Ballingschap,   or 
with  Satan  in  Adamus  Exsul,  and  in  Paradise 
Lost.     The  Seven  Deadly  Sins  are  not  well  dis- 
criminated from  the  World  and  the  Flesh;  nor 
does    the   list    given   at   the   beginning   of   the 
drama   cover  all  of  the  characters   introduced 
in  the  plan.     The  author's  object  is  not  to  por- 
tray clearly  defined  characters,  but  a  pageant 
varied    and    startling.     There    is    dumb    show, 
tableau,   song  and  dance,  as  well  as  long  de- 
clamation, and  more  solemn  chorus. 


*'UAdamo/'  Andreini         193 

Act  I  consists  of  six  scenes.  In  the  first, 
God  creates  the  world  and  places  Adam  and 
Eve  in  Paradise;  a  chorus  of  angels  extols  the 
glory  of  God,  and  Adam  and  Eve  declare  their 
delight  and  gratitude  in  God's  benevolence. 
The  remaining  five  scenes  present  the  forces  of 
evil  plotting  against  God. 

In  scene  ii,  Lucifer  rises  from  the  abyss 
of  hell  and  reviles  God,  who,  he  says,  is  evi- 
dently tired  pf  heaven  and  wants  a  new 
Paradise. 

"  But  why,"  he  mockingly  asks,  "  did  God 
create  this  earthly  Paradise  and  place  in  it 
gods  of  human  flesh?"  The  fallen  angel  feels 
that  it  is  because  his  own  revolt  has  desolated 
heaven;  and  he  boasts  that  God  may  go  on 
building  new  worlds  all  that  he  likes,  but  Luci- 
fer will  find  means  to  destroy  what  God  has 
made. 

In  scene  iii,  Lucifer  is  stirring  up  Satan 
and  Beelzebub  to  an  open  expression  of  resent- 
ment against  God.  He  tells  them  that  proud 
hearts  cannot  endure  their  punishment.  For 
his  part,  he  has  resolved  upon  a  change;  he 
will  no  longer  endure  the  darkness  of  hell,  but 
the  sun  and  moon  shall  shed  their  light  into 
the  abyss.     He  calls  the  devils  to  arms;  for  if 

X3 


194     The  Epic  of  Paradise  Lost 

they  will  arouse  themselves  men  made  of  dust 
shall  not  possess  the  stars. 

Beelzebub,  full  of  wrath,  shakes  back  the  hiss- 
ing snakes  from  his  eyes,  and  Lucifer  continues 
to  fan  the  blaze  of  envious  wrath.  He  reminds 
them  that  man  is  now  very  fortunate  in  Para- 
dise and  there  are  grounds  for  grave  fears  that 
his  posterity  will  be  raised  to  heaven.  Satan 
expresses  his  apprehension  of  the  power  of 
"  the  incarnate  word  "  ^  and  Lucifer  explains 
that  through  the  incarnation  of  Christ  the 
human  race  is  destined  to  be  raised  above  the 
angels.  He  calls  now  for  concerted  action 
against  such  a  usurpation  of  heaven.  If  man 
can  be  put  to  death  before  Christ's  incarna- 
tion, the  hopes  of  the  "  God  man  "  will  be  ef- 
fectively crushed. 

In  the  planning  that  follows,  Lucifer  takes 
the  lead.  He  has  already  thought  of  a  vul- 
nerable point  in  man:  Adam  sustains  life  by 
food,  and  he  shall  be  made  to  eat  the  forbidden 
fruit  this  very  day;  by  this  act  shall  he  merit 
death.2     Lucifer  pauses  in  his  plot  to  sneer  at 

>  Lucifer  fears  Christ  but  has  not  the  unity  of  plan  of 
resistance  to  the  Messiah  that  is  elaborated  in  Paradise 
Lost, 

^  Lucifer  knows  all  about  man,  is  fully  informed  also 
as  to  the  prohibition  concerning  the  tree  of  knowledge ; 


''UAdamo/'  Andreini         195 

God's  foolishness  in  putting  such  a  peril  as 
this  in  man's  way.  It  looks,  he  says,  as 
though  God  were  already  tired  of  his  new 
amusement,  man,  and  were  willing  to  have  him 
destroyed.  He  has  indeed  made  a  poor  piece 
of  work  in  the  creation  of  a  man  so  weak.  Man 
shall  be  forthwith  destroyed;  and  when  this 
hope  of  Adam's  race  for  repeopling  heaven  is 
lost,  God  may  decide  to  relent  and  to  restore 
the  fallen  angels  to  their  proper  place. 

In  scene  iv,  the  plan  for  man's  ruin  takes 
a  more  definite  shape;  Lucifer,  Satan,  and 
Beelzebub  decide  that  Eve  should  be  the  first 
victim  of  their  plot.  She  shall  be  tempted 
with  Pride  and  Envy;  Envy  because  she  was 
not  created  before  man. 

She  shall  complain  against  God  that  she,  who  is  des- 
tined to  be  the  mother  of  the  human  race,  was  not  created 
first  and  was  not  given  dignity  superior  to  Adam's.  .  .  . 
She  thus  shall  lay  down  the  law  to  God  against  his 
actions. 

Scene  v  is  purely  spectacular,  indeed  it  is 
a  marshalling  of  the  varied  forces  of  evil,  and 
the   allegorical   characters   are   multiplied   with 

Milton  follows  the  Rabbinical  writers  and  makes  neither  . 
the  angels  of  light  nor  of  darkness  omniscient.    Satan  in 
Paradise  Lost  learns  of  the  forbidden  fruit  from  Adam's 
own  lips  only. 


196     The  Epic  of  Paradise  Lost 

a  loss  to  logical  clearness ;  not  Pride  and  Envy 
as  before  planned,  but  Greed,  Wrath,  and 
Avarice  are  now  sent  to  seduce  Eve. 

In  scene  vi,  Lucifer,  Satan,  and  Beelzebub, 
with  other  evil  spirits,  set  forth  to  tempt  Eve, 
but  the  evil  spirits  differ  from  those  mentioned 
in  the  last  two  scenes.  In  this  scene.  Envy  and 
Luxury  are  the  agents. 

In  Act  II,  scene  i,  a  chorus  of  fifteen  angels 
sing  of  the  majesty  of  God  and  of  his  benevo- 
lence to  man. 

In  scene  ii,  Adam  and  Eve  are  portrayed 
in  Paradise;  Envy,  Gluttony,  and  Luxury  lurk 
unseen,  watching  for  an  opportunity  to  assail 
Eve,  but  Adam  and  Eve  join  so  fervently  in 
praise  to  God  that  the  evil  spirits  are  put  to 
flight.  The  inner  resistance  from  the  force  of 
good  in  man,  as  well  as  the  conflict  of  the  outer 
forces  of  the  angels  against  the  powers  of  evil, 
is  well  marked  in  UAdamo. 

In  scene  iii,  the  Serpent,  Satan,  and  Volano 
- — literally  Shuttlecock;  Variableness  or  Friv- 
olity would  perhaps  render  the  name — appear 
in  Eden.  The  Serpent  explains  why  he  took 
the  form  of  a  snake:  he  did  not  desire  to 
choose  a  shape  that  would  bring  him  into  con- 
trast with  the  angels,  nor  Lti  a  human  form  di(J 


''UAdamo/'  Andreini         197 

he  wish  to  meet  Eve  for  she  knew  there  was  one 
man,  only,  in  Paradise.  He  did  not  choose  the 
form  of  a  tiger,  nor  of  a  she  bear,  nor  of  a 
lordly  lion,  because  Eve  knew  that  these  could 
not  reason.  But  as  a  serpent,  "  she  could  not 
know  that  I  was  a  foe  of  the  great  God." 
Therefore  he  has  chosen  to  disguise  himself  in 
the  scales  of  a  serpent,  from  the  waist  down; 
the  rest  of  his  body  is  that  of  a  beautiful 
maiden. 

Scene  iv  is  purely  spectacular;  Volano,  the 
Serpent,  some  other  spirits,  and  Satan  an- 
nounce to  the  infernal  forces  of  hell  the  plan  to 
tempt  Eve. 

In  scene  v,  Vain-glory,  drawn  by  a  giant, 
Volano,  the  Serpent,  Satan,  and  other  spirits 
enter  Paradise.  Vain-glory  and  the  Serpent 
conceal  themselves  near  the  tree  of  knowledge 
to  tempt  Eve  to  eat  of  the  forbidden  fruit. 

In  scene  vi.  Eve  rejoices  in  the  goodness  of 
God  and  in  the  beauty  of  his  work.  Her  solilo- 
quy is  interrupted  by  the  sight  of  a  beautiful 
woman's  face  among  the  branches  of  the  tree. 
She  is  surprised  to  see  what  appears  to  be  an- 
other human  being,^  with  the  eyes,  face,  and 
arms  of  a  woman  and  the  rest  of  the  body  in 
^  The  description  suggests  Keats's  Lamia, 


198      The  Epic  of  Paradise  Lost 

the  form  of  a  serpent  with  glittering  scales. 
She  exclaims  at  this  wonder,  and  the  Serpent 
remarks  in  an  aside,  "  Evidently  I  am  fortun- 
ate in  my  choice  of  a  disguise !  "  He  then  be- 
gins an  encomium  upon  her  matchless  beauty 
which  amazes  Eve  and  she  asks  who  he  is. 
The  Serpent  declares  that  he  was  appointed 
to  be  a  guardian  of  the  fruits  in  Paradise. 
He  would  like  to  show  her  some  great  beauties 
of  Eden  which  she  may  not  have  discovered, 
and  he  claims  the  power  to  work  wonders. 

When  Eve  insists  upon  knowing  this  strang- 
er's name,  she  is  told  "  Wisdom."  By  degrees 
the  Serpent  avows  his  desire  to  see  justice  done 
to  so  beautiful  a  creature  as  she  is ;  she  ought 
to  be  exalted  above  her  present  condition.  He 
wishes  to  see  her  adored  as  a  goddess.  He 
arouses  Eve's  curiosity  by  his  strange  words 
and  then  he  offers  her  some  of  the  fruit  of  the 
tree  of  knowledge.  She  promptly  rejects  this 
and  tells  him  of  God's  commands.  Thereupon 
the  Serpent  expresses  surprise;  the  only  ex- 
planation that  he  can  surmise  for  this  prohibi- 
tion is  that  God  is  jealous  of  what  she  might 
become  did  she  partake  of  this  fruit.  He  tells 
her  that  she  is  superior  to  Adam,  that  justice 
demanded   that   she   should   have   been    created 


''L'Adamo/'  Andreini         199 

before  Adam  as  she  was  to  be  the  mother  of 
the  human  race.  Injustice  was  then  shown  to 
her  in  her  birth,  and  now  there  is  further 
ground  for  indignation,  for  the  injunction 
upon  the  fruit  has  no  foundation  except  in  the 
desire  of  God  to  deprive  her  of  her  rights  and 
to  compel  her  to  remain  a  mortal  when  she  is 
by  nature  a  goddess.  He  descants  upon  the 
efficacy  of  the  fruit  to  reveal  to  her  the  mys- 
teries of  God.  Fully  persuaded  that  proper 
spirit  demands  from  her  indignation  for  her 
wrongs  and  courage  for  the  grasping  of  powers 
that  are  her  right,  she  takes  the  fruit.  A 
chill  of  horror  warns  her  of  broken  law,  but 
she  will  not  listen  to  her  conscience  and  she 
exults  in  her  newly  gained  perceptions.  She 
rejoices  that  Adam  is  in  her  power;  through 
her,  only,  can  he  be  exalted.  Vain-glory  now 
sings  a  song  of  triumph. 

In  Act  III,  scene  i.  Eve  goes  to  find  Adam. 
She  meets  him,  on  his  return  from  a  ramble, 
and  he  is  too  enthusiastic  over  a  discovery  of 
a  beautiful  waterfall  to  notice  her  changed  as- 
pect. She  tells  him  that  she  has  been  fright- 
ened in  her  solitary  walk  and  finds  comfort 
in  seeing  him.  There  are  here  long,  tender 
speeches    very    full    of    Marinism.     At    length 


200     The  Epic  of  Paradise  Lost 

Eve  produces  the  apple,  which  singularly 
enough  Adam  has  not  noticed  before  in  her 
hand.  He  is  horrified,  for  he  recognises  this 
fruit  at  once  as  a  product  of  the  tree  of 
knowledge. 

In  justification  of  her  deed,  Eve  presents  a 
new  view  of  her  motive,  for  she  now  says  that 
she  took  the  apple  in  order  to  take  wings  to 
carry  her  husband  to  the  sky.  Adam  is  un- 
moved by  her  plea  of  wifely  zeal  for  his  ag- 
grandisement. He  declares  that  it  is  his  duty 
to  obey  God,  and  he  wonders  that  she  did  not 
grow  pale  at  the  thought  of  the  death  penalty. 
Eve  replies,  with  her  newly  acquired  satanic 
wisdom,  that  if  the  apple  could  bring  death 
the  Creator  would  not  have  planted  it  there, 
where  life  is  given.  Moreover,  she  argues, 
things  good  are  beautiful  and  things  beautiful 
are  good,  therefore  the  apple  is  as  good  as  it  is 
beautiful;  but  Adam  is  unconvinced  and  re- 
fuses to  touch  the  fruit. 

Eve  now  abandons  all  attempt  at  an  argu- 
ment and  plays  upon  his  feelings.  "  Then  you 
do  not  love  me,"  she  says,  and  she  declares  her 
resolve  to  go  away  by  herself.  She  gains  her 
point,  for  Adam  begs  her  to  stay.  She  reiter- 
ates that  he  is  very  ungrateful  for  her  cour- 


K    UNIVERSITY 

V      ^^        / 

''UAdamo/'  Andreini         201 

age  in  risking  perils  for  his  future  glory, — "  I 
who  did  so  much  to  exalt  man  above  high 
heavens," — she  pleads  that  it  is  very  little 
for  him  to  do  to  complete  his  emancipation 
from  human  fetters,  and  to  eat  the  apple  that 
she  has  brought.  Adam  is  finally  won  over, 
and  they  eat  the  apple  together.  They,  at 
once,  feel  deep  grief,  and  they  are  persuaded 
that  they  are  subject  to  death  and  a  thousand 
ills. 

In  scene  ii,  Satan  and  Volano  proclaim  the 
fall  of  man,  and  call  upon  the  infernal  powers 
to  strike  up  the  bugles  of  victory. 

In  scene  iii,  Satan,  Volano,  and  a  chorus  of 
spirits  with  ensigns  and  musical  instruments 
celebrate  the  victory   of  Evil  over  Good. 

In  scene  iv,  the  Serpent,  Vain-glory,  Satan, 
Volano,  and  other  spirits  dance  and  sing  songs 
of  rejoicing. 

In  scene  v,  the  infernal  dance  continues,  a 
pantomime  of  imps,  the  Serpent,  Volano,  Ca- 
noro.  Vain-glory,  and  other  spirits  join  in  the 
dance,  until  the  voice  of  God  is  heard  and  they 
all  flee  in  terror  at  the  sound. 

In  scene  vi,  God,  some  angels,  Adam,  and 
Eve  appear  as  actors.  God  says  that  since 
Adam    has    chosen    to    listen    to    the    Serpent 


202     The  Epic  of  Paradise  Lost 

rather  than  to  him,  "  If  I  could  repent,  I  do 
repent,  that  I  have  made  man." 

Since  man  has  corrupted  all,  God  announces 
that  it  is  right  that  punishment  should  follow 
sin.  God  is  justice,  and  Adam  is  called  to  an- 
swer for  his  sin  at  the  bar  of  divine  justice. 
Adam  throws  the  responsibility  of  his  sin  upon 
Eve ;  and  Eve  says — "  the  Serpent  made  me 
sceptical  about  God's  intentions."  God  proceeds 
to  pronounce  his  judgments  and  Adam's  sent- 
ence ends  with  these  words,  "  You  aimed  at  high- 
est heaven  and  have  gained  instead  lowest  hell." 

In  the  sentence  upon  Eve  next  pronounced, 
there  is  no  hint  of  hope  in  the  incarnate  word 
but  in  the  condemnation  of  the  Serpent  there 
is  this  significant  passage :  "  Between  the 
woman  and  the  Serpent  there  shall  be  contin- 
ual war.  If  one  woman  fell,  that  other  woman 
[the  Virgin  Mary]  shall  be  victorious  and  her 
seed  shall  bruise  the  Serpent's  head."  God 
then   disappears    into   the   heavens. 

In  scene  vii,  clothes  are  brought  to  Adam  and 
Eve,  and  lamentations  for  lost  innocence  fill 
the  scene.  Eve  is  gentle  and  penitent  and 
takes  all  the  responsibility  for  the  sin  upon  her- 
self. But  Adam  is  bitter,  his  ruin,  he  de- 
clares, came  through  his  loyalty  in  love. 


''L'Adamo,"  Andreini        203 

In  scene  vili,  Michael  descends  to  exile  Adam 
and  Eve  from  Paradise. 

In  scene  ix,  some  angels  in  a  heavenly 
chorus  exhort  Adam  and  Eve  to  repentance, 
and  proclaim  hope  of  mercy  and  of  joy 
hereafter. 

In  Act  IV,  scene  i,  a  chorus  of  spirits  of 
fire,  of  air,  of  earth,  and  of  water  express  their 
obedience  to  Lucifer  in  accordance  with  the 
belief  of  demonology  and  of  black  art.^ 

In  scene  ii,  Lucifer  rises  and  denounces  light ; 
the  demons  try  to  console  him,  but  he  insists 
upon  knowing  what  was  the  meaning  of  God's 
words,  in  his  condemnation  of  the  Serpent, — • 
Who  is  it  that  shall  crush  his  head?  The  de- 
mons suggest  explanations,  but  he  spurns  their 
reasoning  and  says  that  his  vanquisher  could 
be  no  other  than  the  "  incarnate  word,"  that  is 
the  Christ.  He  feels  that  his  plot  has  failed 
and  he  devises  new  schemes  to  set  God  against 
man,  so  that  the  omnipotent  may  destroy  man 
before  "  God  in   flesh "   is  born. 

In  scene  iii,  lucifer  tries  his  hand  at  creation 
in  derision  of  God.     To  this   end  the  infernal 

^  Notice  common  belief  in  origin  of  black  art  after 
man's  fall — notice  also  belief  in  dominion  of  evil  spirits 
over  forces  of  nature.    See  for  instance  in  Tasso. 


204    The  Epic  of  Paradise  Lost 

Cyclops  and  Lucifer  create  monsters  for 
troubling  man  and  they  despatch  World, 
Flesh,  and  Death  to  tempt  Adam  and  Eve. 
Lucifer  here  practises  black  art  after  the  fash- 
ion of  his  later  descendant  Archimago. 

Li  scene  iv,  Adam  laments  the  loss  of  per- 
fection in  outward  nature  ensuing  from  man's 
fall. 

In  scene  v,  Adam  and  Eve  fly  to  hide  them- 
selves from  animals  that  fight  and  pursue  one 
another.-^  Eve  declares  that  to  exist  is  no 
longer  life,  if  they  must  thus  be  in  the  constant 
fear  of  death. 

In  scene  vi.  Famine,  Thirst,  Fatigue,  De- 
spair, explain  in  turn  to  Eve  their  signifi- 
cance, and  she  is  terrified  at  the  ordeal. 

In  scene  vii.  Death  threatens  to  cut  off  the 
life  of  Adam  and  Eve,  and  dwells  upon  the  fury 
of  the  elements,  but  it  is  noticeable  that  all  are 
outward  horrors,  nowhere  is  suicide  suggested, 
as  Hayley  implies. 

In  Act  V,  scene  i,  the  Flesh,  in  the  shape  of 
a  woman,  tempts  Adam,  but  he  resists  her 
blandishments. 

In  scene  ii,  Lucifer  comes  to  the  aid  of  Flesh 

*  Incorrectly  given  by  Hayley ;  Eve  nowhere  advises 
suicide. 


'^UAdamo/'  Andreini        205 

and  exhorts  Adam  to  yield  and  he  promises  him 
heaven,  if  he  will  surrender. 

In  scene  iii,  a  guardian  angel  flies  to  the  aid 
of  Adam,  and  Lucifer  and  Flesh  are  put  to 
flight. 

In  scene  Iv,  World  appears  to  tempt  Eve, — 
this  creation  Is  not  unlike  Comus ;  there  Is  a 
long  description  of  his  frivolity  and  finery. 
He  urges  Eve  to  make  him  her  choice,  but  she 
does  not  yield. 

In  scene  v,  the  ordeal  of  Eve  continues,  and 
the  Comus  element  increases  in  prominence. 
World  now  offers  to  raise  by  magic  a  glitter- 
ing palace  which  Eve  Is  urged  to  accept. 

In  scene  vi,  some  Nymphs  are  called  by  World 
to  enchant  Eve.  They  are  about  to  enchain 
her,  when  Adam  encourages  her  to  resist  and 
she   prays   for   help   and   mercy. 

In  scene  vil,  Lucifer,  Death,  World,  and  a 
chorus  of  devils  threaten  to  seize  Adam  and 
Eve,  and  they  are  about  to  bear  away  their 
victims. 

In  scene  vlil,  to  prevent  this  seizure,  the  arch- 
angel Michael  flies  to  the  rescue  with  a  chorus 
of  angels,  and  a  spirited  combat  follows  between 
the  good  and  the  bad  angels.  Michael  Is  vic- 
torious and  the  evil  spirits  are  put  to  flight. 


2o6    The  Epic  of  Paradise  Lost 

In  scene  ix,  Adam  and  Eve  rejoice  in  their 
deliverance  by  Michael.  The  archangel  cheers 
them  with  the  promise  of  the  renewed  favour 
of  God  and  of  a  future  home  in  heaven.  Praise 
of  the  Redeemer  is  the  last  note  struck  in  the 
drama,  not  by  a  chorus  of  angels,  as  Hayley 
says,  but  by  Michael  himself. 

The  variety  of  episode  useful  in  the  epic  is 
attempted  in  this  work.  The  activity  of  Sa- 
tan's followers  is  graphically  portrayed;  they 
crowd  and  pervade  the  scene  and  show  impish 
delight  in  evil  deeds.  The  resentment  of  Satan 
toward  God  and  his  unceasing  resistance  to 
the  incarnation  of  Christ  give  unity  to  his 
motive  throughout  the  play.  From  all  this  we 
conclude  that  the  motive,  the  action,  the  re- 
sistance, and  intrigue  are  clearly  defined  in 
UAdamo. 
/V  The  temptation  of  Eve  has  interesting  and 
skilful  management  in  certain  respects.  Her 
innocence  is  not  so  vulnerable  as  it  appeared  in 
Adam  in  Ballingschap,  for  there  are  two  at- 
tempts to  mislead  Eve.  In  the  first  ordeal. 
Envy,  Gluttony,  and  Luxury  are  all  put  to 
flight  by  Adam's  and  Eve's  hymns  of  fervent 
praise  of  God's  goodness.  The  next  attack  is 
not   very   confidently   undertaken   by   the   Ser- 


''L'Adamo,"  Andreini         207 

pent,  Satan,  and  Frivolity,  and  other  spirits 
later  join  them.  At  length  when  Vain-glory 
comes  drawn  by  a  giant,  the  spectator  is 
made  to  feel  that  the  power  of  evil  is  exerting 
itself  to  the  utmost  to  accomplish  a  difficult 
and  important  task.  Vain-glory  and  the  Ser- 
ent  together  await  the  passing  of  Eve.  These 
elaborate  preparations  have  advantages:  they 
aid  in  the  portrayal  of  the  dignity  of  the  hu- 
man beings  in  the  plot,  for  their  fall  is  not 
easy  to  accomplish;  they  manifest  the  dignity 
of  the  conception  of  God,  for  the  forces  of  evil 
were  taxed  to  the  uttermost  to  gain  any  foot- 
hold in  this  angel-guarded  Eden,  and  they  did 
not  find  free  field  for  their  activities.  These 
details  add  force  to  the  characterisation  of  the 
powers  of  evil  in  two  ways :  They  are  forced  to 
use  a  variety  of  devices  and  they  are  unresting 
in  their  eagerness  to  do  evil.  Where  one  or 
two  evil  spirits  are  delegated  to  perform  an 
errand  a  host  fly  to  aid. 

The  reasoning  of  the  Serpent  in  the  scene 
of  the  temptation  of  Eve  has  some  interesting 
characteristics.  He  stirs  Eve's  resentment  to- 
ward God,  because  she  has  not  been  treated 
fairly;  as  the  mother  of  the  human  race,  she 
should   have   been   first    created   and   made   in 


2o8    The  Epic  of  Paradise  Lost 

every  way  the  important  consideration  in  the 
plan  of  the  universe.  He  points  out  that  the 
prohibition  not  to  eat  the  fruit  of  the  tree  of 
knowledge  is  another  attempt  to  deprive  her 
of  her  privileges.  Surely,  her  wrongs  ought 
to  be  righted,  urges  the  solicitous  and  friendly 
Serpent,  and  the  first  step  for  her  to  take  is  to 
eat  the  apple  boldly.  After  that  act  she  will 
not  be  in  this  sadly  dependent  position,  but  will 
be  able  to  see  for  herself  what  is  true  and  to 
decide  what  should  be  done.  All  this  strikes 
the  spectator  as  likely  to  surprise  and  impress 
Eve,  and  might  easily  through  curiosity  and 
vainglory  bring  her  downfall.  It  makes  her 
fall  seem  reasonable  without  depicting  her  as  in 
love  with  evil,  or  too  vicious  to  be  new  in  sin. 

After  the  fall  of  Adam  and  Eve,  when  God 
has  pronounced  his  judgment  upon  them,  and 
they  are  expelled  from  Paradise,  a  chorus  of 
good  angels  sing  of  repentance  and  hold  out 
a  hope  of  mercy  and  of  joy  hereafter.  In  the 
hope  of  salvation  for  man  lies  Satan's  defeat, 
and  in  the  next  act  we  are  not  surprised  to 
learn  that  Lucifer  doubts  his  own  success. 
He  admits  that  there  is  still  danger  of  Christ's 
incarnation,  his  task  therefore  is  not  accom- 
plished, and  he  gathers  all  of  his  resources  for 


**UAdamo/'  Andreini        209 

another  plot.  The  World,  the  Flesh,  and 
Death  are  despatched  to  tempt  Adam  and  Eve. 
The  conflict  is  desperate,  but  the  earnest 
prayers  of  man  bring  Michael  to  the  rescue, 
and  the  hosts  of  right  gain  no  doubtful  victory. 
Adam  and  Eve  rejoice  in  their  deliverance, 
and  listen  to  the  glad  promises  of  hope  that 
they  may  regain  favour  with  God,  redemption 
through  Christ,  and  a  home  at  last  in  heaven; 
no  longer  can  Lucifer  doubt  his  defeat. 

These  are  excellences  in  VAdamo  which  re- 
veal a  broader,  better  balanced  treatment  of 
the  theme  at  these  points  than  we  have  found 
in  the  other  tragedies,  but  are  they  of  advant- 
age to  the  play? 

The  breadth  has  been  gained  by  a  confusing 
variety  ^  of  scenes  and  complicated  allegorical 
machinery,  that  might  result  in  the  effect  of 
a  comic  opera  upon  the  stage.  The  multiplicity 
of  scene  diverts  and  distracts  the  attention,  and 
the  play  becomes  a  spectacular  and  astonish- 
ing performance  without  the  dignity  that  the 
theme  demands.  Related  rather  than  acted, 
and  through  the  use  of  the  epic  background 
and  the  epic  method,  the  varied  episodes  might 

*  V  Adamo  has  forty-six  scenes  and  five  acts.   By  vari- 
ety of  scene,  I  do  not  mean  change  of  place  to  4^  scenes, 
14 


2IO    The  Epic  of  Paradise  Lost 

reach  dignified  elevation,  and  lend  importance 
and  reasonableness  to  the  plot. 

The  difficulty  with  UAdamo  as  a  tragedy 
is  found  in  the  fact  that  instead  of  being  im- 
pressive it  becomes  grotesque.  It  stands  on 
the  borderland  of  the  miracle  and  the  morality 
play  with  characteristics  of  the  opera  and 
of  the  epic.  The  thought  emerges  from  the 
full  epic  background  and  requires  the  devices 
of  the  epic  method  for  dignity  in  its  presenta- 
tion. Andreini  doubtless  possessed  more  in- 
genuity than  elevation  of  genius,  but  not  even 
a  Milton  could  make  the  visual  presentation  of 
such  an  epic  combat  other  than  grotesque. 

Not  alone  for  the  consideration  of  dignity, 
but  also  for  reasonableness  and  force,  is  the 
choice  of  the  epic  form  demanded  by  the  theme 
of  Satan's  contest  with  God,  as  the  next  tra- 
gedy to  be  reviewed  very  eloquently  sets  forth, 
— that  is,  the  tragedy  of  Lucifer  by  Vondel. 


IX 

"LUCIFER,"  VONDEL 

THE  best  of  the  tragedies  upon  the  origin 
of  evil  that  were  doubtless  known  by 
Milton  is  Lucifer^  the  acknowledged  master- 
piece of  Vondel,  which  appeared  in  1654  and 
was  twice  presented  upon  the  stage.  It  is  a 
classic  drama  built  about  the  choral  ode  and 
shows  the  influence  of  Sophocles  and  of  Euripi- 
des. The  work  has  received  a  good  deal  of 
attention,  through  the  services  of  George  Ed- 
mundson,  Edmund  Gosse,  and  the  admirable 
translation  of  Leonard  Charles  Van  Noppen, 
and  unquestionably  deserves  a  wider  popular- 
ity than  it  has  yet  received,  for  it  is  a  produc- 
tion of  power  and  of  beauty,  although  its  wide 
appeal  is  limited  by  local  colour.  Lucifer  the 
Stadtholder  ^  with  his  oath  of  fealty  had  reality 
and  even  satiric  force  in  seventeenth-century 
Holland,  but  he  is  provincial  and  requires  ex- 
planation to-day. 

»  See  career  of  William  the  Silent,  1533-1584,  Motley. 
See  character  of  Philip  II  from  his  letters. 

211 


212     The  Epic  of  Paradise  Lost 

There  can  be  little  doubt  that  the  tragedy 
of  Lucifer  struck  with  dynamic  power  burning 
questions  at  issue,  not  only  in  Holland,  but  in 
Europe  in  VondePs  day.  To  the  author's  dis- 
appointment, however,  since  the  presentation 
of  heaven  and  the  angels  was  not  in  accord- 
ance with  the  notions  of  the  clergy,  the  acting 
of  the  tragedy  was  caused  to  be  discontinued 
by  law.  This  statute  was  unrevoked  and  for 
two  hundred  and  fifty  years  the  work  has 
taken  its  place  in  the  long  line  of  tragedies  to 
be  read,  but  not  to  be  acted.  However  nar- 
now-minded  and  partisan  the  opponents  of 
Vondel  may  have  been,  one  may  raise  the  ques- 
tion to-day  whether  some  fundamental  principles 
of  good  taste  were  not  involved  in  their  opposi- 
tion. Is  the  tragedy  of  Lucifer  suitable  for 
stage  presentation,  on  artistic  grounds  alone? 

Vondel,  in  A  Word  to  Follow  Academicians 
and  Patrons  of  the  Drama,  has  left  us  in  no 
doubt  in  regard  to  his  conviction  of  the  didac- 
tic office  of  tragedy,  which  "  Can  drive  the 
turbulent  spirit  out  of  a  possessed  and  hard- 
ened soul."  ^  After  mentioning  examples  of  the 
efficiency    of    tragedy    in    bringing    about    the 

*  See  translation  by  Van  Noppen. 


'* Lucifer/'  Vondel  213 

conviction  of  sin  and  as  a  moral  teacher  gen- 
erally, he  discusses  the  objection  of  those  who 
maintain  that 

"  One  should  not  play  with  holy  things."  He  resolves 
this  into  an  equivocation  and  thus  concludes  :  *'  So  that 
we,  hereby  encouraged,  may,  with  greater  zeal,  bring 
Lucifer  upon  the  stage,  where  he,  finally  smitten  by 
God's  thunderbolt,  plunges  down  into  hell, — the  mirror 
clear  of  all  ungrateful,  ambitious  ones,  who  audaciously 
dare  to  exalt  themselves,  setting  themselves  against  the 
consecrated  powers  and  majesties  and  their  lawful 
superiors." 

But  this  is  not  the  ground  to-day  upon 
which  we  should  either  commend  or  censure  the 
tragedy.  It  is  not  whether  it  contains  a  good 
moral  lesson,  or  is  likely  to  influence  possible 
Cromwells  in  the  audience  to  desist  from  sedi- 
tion that  interests  us;  the  question  here  to  be 
answered  is,  whether  the  theme  can  be  artist- 
ically presented  in  a  tragedy. 

Vondel  himself  may  be  quoted  against  this 
attempt;  for  in  the  beginning  of  the  letter 
quoted,  he  says: 

The  great  Archangels,  Lucifer  and  Michael,  each 
strengthened  by  his  followers,  come  on  the  stage,  and 
play  their  parts.  The  stage  and  the  actors  are,  in  sooth, 
of  such  nature,  and  so  glorious,  that  they  demand  a 
grander  style  and  higher  buskins  than  I  know  how  to  put 
on.  No  one,  who  understands  the  speech  of  the  infallible 
oracles  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  will  judge  that  we  present 


214    The  Epic  of  Paradise  Lost 

here  the  story  of  Salmoneus,  who,  in  Elis,  mounted  upon 
his  chariot,  while  defying  Jupiter,  and  imitating  his 
thunder  and  hghtning,  by  riding  over  a  brazen  bridge, 
holding  a  burning  torch,  was  slain  by  a  thunderbolt. 

A  study  of  the  tragedy  will  reveal  that  the 
many  good  points  in  Lucifer  are  "  of  a  grander 
style  and  higher  buskins  "  than  are  suited  to  a 
tragedy.  The  play  attempts  in  fact  to  pre- 
sent the  epic  background  and  the  theme  de- 
mands the  epic  treatment. 

In  Paradise  Lost  Lucifer  will  not  submit  to 
the  supremacy  of  the  Messiah.  By  rebellion, 
he  seeks  to  divide  the  kingdom  of  heaven. 
Expelled  from  heaven  but  unconquered  in  his 
spirit,  he  carries  the  same  war  against  God 
into  Eden,  although  he  confesses  that  he  has 
no  feud  with  man. 

In  his  Foreword,  Vondel  explains  that  Luci- 
fer fell  through  pride  and  envy,  and  quotes 
1st.  Augustine's  distinction  of  these  emotions ; 
pride  is  a  love  of  one's  own  greatness,  but  envy 
is  a  hatred  of  another's  happiness.  From 
pride,  Lucifer  sought  to  be  equal  with  God; 
tirom  envy,  he  conspired  against  man.^  In 
Adamus  Exsul  the  motive  of  Satan  in  his  plot 

*  See  VondePs  introductory  comments  on  Lucifer ^  trans- 
lated by  Van  Noppen. 


^*  Lucifer/'  Vondel  215 

against  Adam  is  primarily  revenge  against 
God,  and  envy  of  man  secondarily.  In 
VAdamo,  revenge  against  God  seems  the  chief 
motive,  but  very  prominent  was  the  determina- 
tion to  prevent  the  coming  of  God  in  human 
flesh  by  causing  the  destruction  of  Adam  and 
Eve  before  Christ  should  be  born.  In  Adam  in 
Ballmgschap  the  motive  of  Satan  is  to  defeat 
God's  decree  concerning  the  incarnation  of 
Christ,  and  to  check  the  growing  dignity  of 
man.  Lucifer  carries  on  the  same  war  in  the 
garden  of  Eden  that  he  began  in  heaven;  he 
has  changed  his  place  and  his  methods,  but  the 
determination  to  subvert  the  decree  is  unal- 
tered, and  he  himself  refers  to  the  plot  against 
man  as  his  second  attempt  in  the  campaign. 
The  first  battle  is  on  the  plains  of  heaven,  and 
the  imaginative  appeal  in  this  scene  is  not 
suited  to  treatment  in  any  other  literary  form 
than  the  epic. 

In  this  tragedy  of  Lucifer  by  Vondel  the 
Angel  of  the  Morning  Star  is  called  heaven^s 
Stadtholder,  who  takes  it  upon  himself  to  stand 
firmly  for  the  ancient  hereditary  privileges  of 
the  angels.  The  decree  granting  man  equal 
and  even  superior  dignities  to  the  angels  is  an 
innovation  to  be  resisted.     Lucifer,  supported 


2i6    The  Epic  of  Paradise  Lost 

by  his  accomplices,  causes  a  revolt,  raises  the 
"  Standard  of  God  and  the  Stadtholder,"  and 
declares  as  his  purpose  both  the  preservation 
of  the  constitutional  rights  of  the  angels  and 
the  "  locking  of  man  out  of  heaven  for  all  eter- 
nity." Throughout  the  play,  Lucifer  shows 
overweening  pride.  Before  the  creation  of 
man  he  was  peculiarly  favoured  by  God;  now 
man  and  the  son  of  God,  who  shall  take  upon 
himself  human  flesh,  menace  Lucifer's  suprem- 
acy, and  this  is  the  secret  of  his  resentment. 

Vondel  has  made  an  innovation  in  the  story 
of  creation ;  for  he  has  placed  the  creation  of 
the  world  and  of  man  before  the  fall  of  the 
angels. -"^ 

We  learri,  in  the  opening  of  the  first  act  of 
Lucifer,  that  there  were  mutter ings  of  discon- 
tent in  heaven.  Beelzebub,  "  the  privy  coun- 
sellor of  Heaven's  Stadtholder,"  is  awaiting  the 
return  of  ApoUion,  who  has  been  despatched  by 
Lucifer  to  spy  upon  the  beauties  of  Eden  and 
the  blessings  of  man.  The  motive  of  this  ex- 
pedition appears  to  be  curiosity  and  a  latent 
unfriendliness  toward  man.  When  Apolllon  ar- 
rives  with   the   golden   bough   from   Eden   his 

'  See  Taaso's  Sette  Giomate  del  Mondo  Creato.  See  also 
Milton's  Treatise  on  Christian  Doctrine. 


'^Lucifer/'  Vondel  217 

report  of  earth's  delights  very  evidently  fans 
the  sparks  of  envy. 

ApoUion's  description  is  interrupted  by  the 
sound  of  a  trumpet  and  Gabriel  arrives  with 
a  chorus  of  angels  to  announce  God's  decree  of 
Christ's  incarnation  and  of  man's  future  su- 
premacy over  the  angels.  The  chorus  rejoices 
in  the  executing  of  all  the  commands  of  God. 

In  Act  II,  Lucifer,  whose  character  has  been 
suggested  by  his  favoured  servants,  now  ap- 
pears and  his  mood  is  no  longer  a  question  for 
conjecture.  His  pride  and  envy  are  revealed 
in  these  lines  -^  : 

**  Lo,  the  moment  comes 
When  Lucifer  must  set  before  this  star, 
This  double  star  that  rises  from  below 
And  seeks  the  way  above,  to  tarnish  Heaven, 
With  earthly  glow." 

His  glory,  he  fears,  is  to  be  overshadowed,  and 
he  sees  a  prophecy  of  a  Gotterdammerung. 

**  The  shades  of  night 
Bedim  the  angels  and  the  suns  of  Heaven, 
For  man  hath  won  the  heart  of  the  Most  High, 
Within  his  new  created  Paradise. 
He  is  the  friend  of  Heaven.     Our  slavery 
Now  begins." 

^  Lucifer  has  been  read  in  the  original  Dutch.  Van 
Noppen's  translation  is  quoted  in  this  essay,  after  careful 
comparison  with  the  original. 


2i8    The  Epic  of  Paradise  Lost 

But  as  the  Stadtholder,  he  will  stand  for  their 
freedom  and  their  ancient  dignity  and  rights. 

**  Let  aU  yield 
Who  will,  not  one  foot  shall  I  e'er  retreat, 
Here  is  my  Fatherland." 

Nor  is  he  without  supporters  apparently  ex- 
perienced in  conspiracy  and  guile  of  long 
practice.-*^  Beelzebub,  who  prods  Lucifer  to 
action,  very  much  as  Cassius  incites  Brutus, 
calling  him  the  Angel  of  the  Morning  Star  who 
from  "  heaven's  face  can  drive  the  night  away," 
urges  him  to  espouse  the  cause  of  the  op- 
pressed,  and  pleads — 

**  The  Godhead  once 
Set  thee,  the  first  in  glory,  at  his  feet. 
Then  let  not  man  dare  thus  our  order  great 
Profane,  nor  thus  cast  down  these  vested  rights 
Without  a  cause,  or  all  of  heaven  shall  spring 
To  arms  *gainst  one." 

Lucifer,  who  seems  not  to  have  been  present 
when  the  decree  concerning  man  was  pro- 
claimed in  heaven,  now  meets  Gabriel  and  asks 
him  censorious  questions  about  God's  message, 
and,  finally,  he  declares  very  frankly  that  he 

*  Lucifer  refers  to  Apollion  as  the  master  wit  in  evil 
and  to  Belial  as  experienced  and  skilful  in  guile ;  see  Act 
II,  line  390,  Van  Noppen's  translation. 


''Lucifer/'  Vondel  219 

considers  the  majesty  of  God  debased  by  this 
decree. 

Gabriel  makes  the  characteristic  reply  of  the 
good  angels,  that  God — 

**  The  point  wherein  his  majesty  doth  lie 
Far  better  knows  than  we." 

As  for  the  angels,  their  office  is  to  obey.  This 
conclusion  Lucifer  rejects  and,  when  Beelzebub 
again  stirs  the  pride  of  Lucifer  to  action,  the 
Stadtholder   sends   forth   this   challenge. 

**  Let  not  a  power  inferior  thus  dream 
To  rule  the  powers  above." 

He  is  now  firmly  resolved  that  he  will  set  up  his 
own  kingdom  above  the  stars,  and  he  will  grind 
to  powder  all  that  oppose  him; — he  even  defies 
God's  marshal,  Michael  himself.  Indeed  Luci- 
fer will,  if  necessary,  wreck  the  heavens  and  the 
earth  and,  in  his  insolence,  he  exults, — 

**  Who  dares,  who  dares  defy  great  Lucifer?" 

He  now  thirsts  for  battle  and  summons  Apol- 
lion  to  take  council  on  ways  and  means,  an- 
nouncing to  him 

**l3oy 
To  storm  this  throne  with  violence,  and  thus 
To  hazard  by  one  strong,  opposing  stroke 
The  glory  of  my  state  and  star  and  crown." 


2  20    The  Epic  of  Paradise  Lost 

Apollion  rejoices  to  hear  of  the  approaching 
contest,  but  he  desires  one  point  to  be  made 
clear: — against  whom  are  they  to  fight? — 
surely  not  against  the  Omnipotent;  for  that 
were  a  useless  warfare.  Lucifer  evades  this 
issue,  by  replying  that  angels  may  fight 
against  angels,  and  thus  they  may  put  the 
opposing  forces  to  flight  and  take  possession 
of  heaven.  When  that  is  accomplished,  further 
dehberation  will  be  necessary.  From  which 
we  infer  that  he  secretly  believes  that  he  can 
conquer  God  and  rule  in  his  stead  or  divide  the 
kingdom  with  the  Almighty,  but  this  he  does 
not  find  it  a  wise  policy  to  state  frankly. 

Apollion,  convinced  of  the  wisdom  of  the 
revolt,  confers  with  Belial,  and  a  plan  of  action 
is  so  arranged;  the  guard  must  be  won  over, 
the  chieftains  and  the  bravest  troops  enlisted 
under  Lucifer's  banner;  but  there  is  need  of  a 
clear  statement  of  the  question  at  issue  and 
Belial  suggests: 

**For  all  eternity, 
Mankind  to  lock  without  the  gate  of  Heaven." 

The  line  of  the  campaign  is  speedily  decided. 
Apollion  and  Belial  are  to  stir  the  smouldering 
fire  of  resentment  among  the  angels.     Beelzebub 


''  Lucifer,"  Vondel  221 

is  first  to  address  the  assembly  upon  their 
vested  rights  and  upon  their  grievances.  Luci- 
fer, when  indignation  has  reached  its  highest 
pitch,  is  to  appear,  to  deplore  the  need  of  re- 
bellion, but  to  offer  his  mighty  arm  to  right 
the  wrongs.  The  question  of  his  wearing  the 
crown  will  be  settled  by  the  counsellors,  who  if 
they  deem  this  wise  will  draw  up  such  a  request 
in  writing  and  affix  their  seals.  From  this, 
it  is  evident  that  ApoUion  gained  no  equivocal 
idea  of  Lucifer's  intention  to  rule  in  heaven. 

In  Act  III,  the  rebellious  angels,  called 
Luciferians,  have  formed  themselves  into  a  fac- 
tion and  their  murmurings  mate  discord  in 
heaven,  for  which  the  good  angels  are  grieved. 
They  are  solicitous  to  soothe,  to  cheer,  and 
finally  to  upbraid  the  Luciferians,  when  they 
understand  the  full  cause  of  their  woe ;  "  for 
one  to  grieve  o'er  others'  bliss  shows  lack  of 
love  and  scents  of  envy  and  of  pride."  They 
assure  the  unhappy,  envious  spirits  that 
greater  and  lesser  stars  move  harmoniously 
in  the  heavens^  that  God's  ordinances  rule  all, 
and  they  have  no  cause  for  discontent. 

Belial  and  Beelzebub  move  among  the  hosts 
as  practised  demagogues  and  swell  the  tide  of 
resentment,  but  at  the  same  time  they  pretend 


2  22    The  Epic  of  Paradise  Lost 

to  be  sorrowful  and  shocked  at  this  outbreak 
in  heaven.  Beelzebub  even  hypocritically  begs 
the  Luciferians,  before  they  risk  a  battle  with 
Michael,  to  send  an  embassy  to  God  to  see  if 
they  may  not  obtain  their  rights  by  a  petition. 

Meanwhile,  the  noise  of  the  tumult  has 
reached  the  ears  of  Michael  and  he  comes 
sternly  to  demand  the  cause  of  the  disturbance. 
He  stands  for  absolute  authority — "  Who  dares 
oppose  or  question  God?  "  When  he  waves  his 
hand,  Michael  expects  instant  dispersion  of  the 
rebels.  They  should  lay  down  their  weapons 
and  retire,  their  assembly  is  unlawful. 

The  reply  of  the  Luciferians,  that  they  await 
the  coming  of  Lucifer,  greatly  amazes  Michael. 
Surely,  he  replies,  they  can  expect  no  sympathy 
from  Heaven's  Stadtholder;  there  can  be  no 
question  of  his  loyalty.  The  Luciferians  ob- 
stinately stand  their  ground,  and  Michael  de- 
parts to  learn  God's  commands  as  to  the 
method  of  quelling  this  insurrection  in  heaven. 

Lucifer  now  arrives  in  the  assembly  of  the 
dissatisfied  angels,  and  he  professes  to  be 
greatly  shocked  by  this  revolt;  he  admits  that 
the  angels  have  their  grievances  and  he  de- 
plores the  unpleasant  situation  in  which  God 
has  placed  himself.     Lucifer  assumes  an  air  of 


''  Lucifer/'  Vondel  223 

grave  deliberation;  both  submission  and  resist- 
ance are  alike  perilous.  The  assembled  angels 
beg  him  to  take  his  battle-axe  and  defend  them 
and  not  cast  them  under  the  yoke  of  man,  as 
Michael  would  gladly  do. 

Lucifer  replies  that  in  leading  a  revolt 
against  God,  he  would  break  his  oath  of  fealty. -"^ 
The  Luciferians  assure  him  that  he  has  the 
support  of  a  third  part  of  heaven,  and  Beelzebub 
now  frankly  espouses  the  cause  of  rebellion, 
and  openly  urges  the  Stadtholder  to  revolt. 
Lucifer  with  well  feigned  reluctance  yields  to 
their   combined  entreaties. 

Beelzebub  thereupon  reveals  the  full  signifi- 
cance of  the  rebellion.  He  causes  Lucifer  to 
mount  a  throne,  and  all  the  Luciferians  swear 
allegiance  to  the  Stadtholder.  Lucifer  calls 
them  all  to  witness  that  he,  constrained  by 
necessity  and  compulsion,  advances  his  stand- 
ard to  defend  God's  realm  and  to  ward  off 
impending  ruin.  The  standard  of  the  Morning 
Star  Is  raised  and  all  swear,  "  by  God  and 
Lucifer,"  but  they  now  transfer  to  Lucifer  the 
rites  of  worship  peculiar  to  God's  throne.  The 
act  ends  with  a  chorus  of  Luciferians  that  sing 

*  Notice  phraseology  of  William  the  Silent  throughout. 


224    The  Epic  of  Paradise  Lost 

a  paean,  and  a  chorus  of  loyal  angels  that 
lament  the  premonitions  of  doom. 

In  Act  IV,  Gabriel  brings  God's  command 
to  Michael  to  proceed  against  the  rebels  and 
Lucifer.  Michael  again  shows  amazement 
that  Lucifer  should  be  found  faithless,  and  he 
marvels  over  what  can  be  the  motive  for  his 
defection.  When  he  learns  of  the  desecration 
of  the  rites  of  God  that  have  been  appropriated 
by  Lucifer,  he  calls  for  his  armour  and  with 
the  swiftness  of  thought  stands  in  battle  array. 
He  calls  for  lightning  and  his  standard  and 
issues  summons  to  war.  Delegating  his  power 
in  heaven  in  his  absence  to  Gabriel,  he  goes 
forth  to  battle. 

Beelzebub,  meanwhile,  continues  to  flatter 
Lucifer;  already,  he  declares,  he  sees  heaven's 
crown  upon  the  brow  of  the  Stadtholder.  Lu- 
cifer is  visibly  dehghted  and  drops  all  subter- 
fuge. He  declares  that  there  is  no  possible 
reconciliation  with  God;  there  is  no  course 
open  but  to  overthrow  the  tyranny  of  heaven 
and  to  establish  a  condition  of  perfect  freedom. 
He  proclaims  to  the  rebellious  angels,  "Adam's 
son  shall  not  chain  your  neck."  Again  his 
forces  swear  allegiance,  "  to  God  and  Lucifer." 

Raphael  with  an  olive  branch  in  his  hand  is 


**  Lucifer/'  Vondel  225 

now  seen  hastening  toward  the  ranks  of  the 
Luciferians.  He  comes  to  plead  with  Lucifer, 
whom  he  sincerely  loves,  and  he  implores  him 
to  desist  from  opposition  to  God  and  he  brings 
to  him  an  offer  of  mercy.  The  former  beauty 
of  Lucifer,  his  position  of  trust  and  of  con- 
fidence in  heaven  are  dwelt  upon  very  eloquently 
by  Raphael,  and  he  begs  him  not  to  lose  all  the 
pristine  holiness  that  has  made  the  angels  de- 
light to  honour  him.  Lucifer  is  unmoved  and 
replies  that  he  deserves  neither  threat  nor 
wrath;  he  has  done  no  wrong;  and  he  has  not 
overstepped  his  commission  for  his  troops  have 
sworn  allegiance  to  "  God  and  to  Lucifer.'* 
In  short,  he  battles  under  God,  for  the  defence 
of  these  his  angels,  and  for  their  ancient  charter 
and  their  right, — privileges  assured  by  God  to 
them  before  the  birth  of  Adam.  "  Take  back,'* 
he  says,  "  this  message  to  the  Father,  whom  I 
serve  and  under  whom  I  thus  unfurl  the  stand- 
ard of  our  Fatherland." 

Raphael  cries  out,  in  astonishment,  against 
such  an  attempt  to  deceive  Omniscience,  and 
when  Lucifer  is  still  obdurate,  the  indignant 
angel  turns  a  swift  ray  celestial  upon  the  rebel 
soul  and  interprets  thus  what  he  finds  written 
there : 
15 


2  26    The  Epic  of  Paradise  Lost 

*'  I  shall  mount  up  from  here  beneath,  through  all 
The  clouds,  aye  even  above  God's  galaxies 
Into  the  top  of  Heaven,  like  unto  God 
Himself-;  nor  shall  the  beams  of  mercy  fall 
On  any  power,  unless  before  my  seat 
It  kneel  in  homage  down ;  no  majesty 
Shall  sceptre  dare,  nor  crown,  unless  I  shall 
First  grant  it  leave  out  of  my  towering  throne.*' 

Lucifer  proudly  rejoins,  as  in  self-defence,  that 
he  is  Heaven's  Stadtholder,  but  Raphael  re- 
minds him, 

*•  Thou  rulest  in  His  name." 

"  Only,"  grumbles  Lucifer,  "  until  Prince 
Adam  comes."  But  again  Raphael  urges  him 
not  to  attempt  to  oppose  God's  decree.  The 
Stadtholder  at  once  rejoins,  "  'T  is  we  that  are 
opposed,"  and  he  insists  that  the  Luciferians 
are  about  to  be  robbed  of  their  inheritance. 

Raphael  protests  against  Lucifer's  audacious 
attempt  to  lay  down  the  law  to  the  Omnipo- 
tent, and,  after  further  explaining  the  con- 
stitutional law  of  heaven,  concludes  that  a 
"  vassal's  power  is  no  inheritance."  In  that 
case,  Lucifer  replies,  their  privileges  are  no 
boon.  Raphael  pleads  so  earnestly  for  peace 
with  God,  that  the  haughty  Stadtholder  for  a 
moment  wavers,  balances  gain  on  both  sides ; 
— ^how  can  he  retreat  from  his  position,  at  the 


'*  Lucifer/'  Vondel  227 

head  of  the  rebel  legions?  but  he  sees  the  wick- 
edness of  his  course.  At  that  moment  the 
trumpet  sounds  to  battle,  Michael  approaches; 
ApoUion  hastens  to  Lucifer  and  asks,  "  Why 
this  delay?  "  Michael  is  near,  he  urges,  but 
"  looks  pale  with  terror  " ;  and  the  die  is  cast, 
Lucifer  joins  battle  with  the  forces  of  Michael. 
With  divine  solicitude,  Raphael  grieves  for 
Lucifer,  once  so  beautiful,  stately,  and  noble.  ^, 
The  chorus  responds  to  his  lament  and  the  act 
closes  with  this  prayer  for  the  Angel  of  the 
Morning  Star: 

**  Oh,  suffer  not  that  soul  to  die 


Oh,  keep  the  archangel  e'er  in  Heaven, 
Let  not  his  guilt  be  unforgiven." 

In  Act  V,  there  is  rejoicing  in  heaven,  over 
the  tidings  of  Michael's  victory  over  the  forces 
of  Lucifer.  Uriel,  in  Homeric  fashion,  re- 
counts to  Raphael  the  exploits  of  the  battle- 
field. Vondel  also  introduces  here  a  device  of 
his  own,  in  that  the  monsters  of  the  zodiac  are 
represented  as  joining  in  the  fray  and  are 
overcome,  and  Lucifer  as  he  falls  is  changed 
into  a  hideous  composite  of  the  seven  deadly 
sins.     Raphael  grieves  over  the  fall  of  Lucifer. 

From    their    post    on    the    wall    of    heaven, 


228    The  Epic  of  Paradise  Lost 

Michael  is  now  descried  returning  from  the 
battle  and  he  is  hailed  by  a  chorus  of  angels ; 
Michael    responds    and    the    chorus    concludes, 

*'This  is  his  fate  who  would  assail  God's  throne, 
This  is  his  fate  who  would,  through  envy,  man. 
In  God's  own  image  made,  deprive  of  light." 

At  that  moment,  Gabriel  appears  fleeing 
from  earth  with  a  lament.  At  once  at  the  end 
of  the  battle  with  Michael,  Lucifer  had  called 
a  council  and  devised  the  plot  to  corrupt  Adam 
and  his  seed  so  that  he  should  incur  God's 
wrath.^  To  accomplish  this,  Belial  was  im- 
mediately despatched  to  take  the  form  of  a 
serpent,  and  to  tempt  Eve  with  the  forbidden 
fruit.^  Thus  the  first  parents  had  been  speedily 
tempted  and  both  had  fallen,  and  God  had  al- 
ready pronounced  punishment  upon  them. 

So  swift  has  been  the  action  here  that  when 
the  angels  first  hear  this  startling  announce- 
ment, there  remain  only  the  expulsion  of 
Adam  and  Eve  from  Eden  to  be  accomplished. 
Michael,  at  once,  despatches  Uriel  to  drive 
them  from  Paradise.     Ozias  he   sends  to  cap- 

*  Notice  that  the  implication  here  is  that  Satan  has 
eluded  God's  plans.  Compare  method  followed  in  Par(u 
dise  Lost,  lines  210-220,  Bk.  I,  etc. 

^  Compare  opening  of  Adam  in  BalUngschap, 


**  Lucifer/'  Vondel  229 

ture  the  infernal  animals,  also  the  lion  and 
the  dragon, — bind  them  neck  and  claw  and 
chain  them  in  the  bottomless  abyss.  Azarias 
he  delegates  to  guard  the  infernal  prisons,  and 
Maceda  he  orders  to  light  the  eternal  fires. 

At  the  end  of  the  tragedy,  a  chorus  sings  an 
ode  in  praise  of  Christ,  the  deliverer,  who  shall 
bruise  the  Serpent's  head  and  who  shall  open,  in 
heaven,  a  fairer  paradise  for  the  souls  of  men. 
Man  shall  rise  to  the  place  once  held  in  heaven 
by  the  fallen  angels  and  Lucifer  is  defeated; 
for  the  decree  that  man  through  Christ  shall 
mount  to  heaven  is  unaltered. 

There  can  be  no  question  that  this  master- 
piece of  Vondel  is  attractive  from  many  points 
of  view.  There  is  much  that  is  majestic  and 
beautiful  in  the  depicting  of  Lucifer,  the  Angel 
of  the  Morning  Star,  the  most  important  and 
most  favoured  spirit  in  heaven.  His  defect 
arises  from  his  greatness ;  he  has  come  to  de- 
mand subservience  to  his  beauty  and  power. 
Since  he  was  thus  vainglorious  what  could  be 
more  natural  than  his  displeasure  with  the 
newly  created  man,  who  seems  a  rival  power 
destined  to  supersede  great  Lucifer  in  the  chief 
place  in  God's  favour?  While  these  doubts  and 
fears  are  fomenting,  there  comes  the  decree  of 


230    The  Epic  of  Paradise  Lost 

the  incarnation  of  Christ,  and  unrest  becomes 
I  rebeUion. 

Lucifer  evades  the  frank  view  of  his  own 
course.  He  declares  that  he  is  not  rebelHng 
against  God,  but  upholding  the  ancient  rights 
and  privileges  of  the  angels.  He  reasons  that 
he  is  therefore  attacked  by  God's  decree  and 
his  resistance  is  unavoidable.  Michael,  Gabriel, 
and  Raphael  find  such  sophistry  inconceivable, 
but  Lucifer  has  much  to  strengthen  his  posi- 
tion ;  for  one  third  of  the  angels  of  heaven  re- 
sort to  his  standard  and  they  are  ready  to 
resist  with  him  now,  and  to  serve  him  hereafter; 
and  he  resolves  to  break  "  the  tyranny  of 
heaven  "  and  be  king  himself,  if  not  above  God, 
equal   with   God. 

Lucifer's  former  dignity  in  heaven  is  shown 
by  the  incredulity  of  Michael;  the  loyalty  of 
the  Angel  of  the  Morning  Star  cannot  be  ques- 
tioned, for  he  can  conceive  of  no  motive  for  his 
opposition  to  the  decree.  The  beautiful  solici- 
tude of  Raphael  reveals,  also,  Lucifer's  high 
place  in  heaven. 

Raphael's  longing  to  reconcile  Lucifer,  his 
hero,  with  God,  and  to  prevent  his  ruin  and 
disgrace  is  vividly  portrayed  in  a  scene  that  is 
dramatic  and  where  his  emotions  are  subtly  and 


'* Lucifer/'  Vondel  231 

exquisitely  blended.  It  seems  reasonable  that 
even  the  obduracy  of  Lucifer  should  be  for  a 
moment  shaken,  and  then  the  archangel  makes 
his  great  final  choice  and  loses  all  power  to 
ever  choose  right  again.  There  is  undoubted 
skill  in  Vondel's  art  in  this  scene.  Lucifer, 
Michael,  Gabriel,  Raphael  are  all  clear  char- 
acterisations in  the  tragedy,  dramatic,  bril- 
liant, and  poetical  in  their  treatment. 

The  forces  of  evil  that  are  aiding  Lucifer  in 
revolt  are  not  so  convincing  in  their  char- 
acterisation. Beelzebub,  although  he  lives  in 
heaven,  shows  no  good  traits,  he  is  a  demagogue 
skilled  in  sedition  and  unhesitatingly  spurs 
Lucifer  to  action ;  nor  is  he  alone,  for  Belial, 
we  are  told,  is  experienced  in  guile,  and  Apol- 
lion  is  consummate  in  deceit  and  in  base  politi- 
cal methods.  Whence  came  they,  why  are  they 
spirits  of  light  ?  Before  the  fall  of  Lucifer  they 
are  old  in  sin  and  apparently  not  at  all  de- 
pendent upon  the  great  protagonist  for  in- 
spiration, but  rather  he  relies  upon  them  for 
plans  for  ways  and  means.  There  is  no  sug- 
gestion that  they  have  ever  had  nobler  em- 
ployment than  that  of  unprincipled  political 
leaders;  the  only  evidence  in  their  favour  is 
that  they  are  not  held  as  suspicious  characters 


232    The  Epic  of  Paradise  Lost 

by  Michael,  the  captain  of  the  hosts  of  God  and 
the  promoter  of  order  in  heaven.  But  should 
not  Michael  have  been  on  his  guard?  There 
is  a  gain  in  dramatic  power  in  these  clear-cut 
characterisations,  but  there  is  loss  in  philo- 
sophical consistency. 

Arising  from  this  lack  of  deeper  consistency 
between  dramatic  characterisation  and  philo- 
sophical truth,  there  is  likewise  a  failure  to 
subordinate  the  good  forces  under  an  omniscient 
and  omnipotent  God,  as  well  as  to  make  the  evil 
forces   dependent  upon  the   father  of  all   evil. 

In  the  scenes  between  Michael,  Raphael,  and 
the  good  angels  and  Lucifer,  Beelzebub,  Belial, 
and  the  Luciferians  it  is  impossible  to  feel  that 
God  is  very  clearly  present  in  heaven ;  he  seems 
remote  and  dependent  upon  messengers.  This 
impression  of  his  aloofness  from  heaven  is 
equalled  only  by  his  detachment  from  the  af- 
fairs on  earth;  and  Vondel's  treatment  of  the 
second  plot,  the  fall  of  man,  enhances  this  im- 
pression; for  after  the  battle  in  heaven,  while 
Michael  is  returning  with  songs  of  victory,  be- 
fore a  command  can  be  given  to  seal  Lucifer  in 
hell,  the  fallen  archangel  has  called  a  council, 
evolved  the  plot  against  man,  Belial  has  ac- 
complished the  fall  of  Adam  and  Eve,  and  God 


''Lucifer,"  Vondel  233 

has  judged  them.  Until  Gabriel  comes  with 
his  lament  from  Eden,  the  good  angels  have 
not  had  an  inkling,  even,  of  a  peril  menacing 
the  denizens  of  Eden.  Surely  that  is  a  de- 
fect. There  is  no  reference  to  a  warning  to 
man;  there  is  no  effort  of  the  good  angels  to 
be  guardians  of  Eden,  nor  to  resist  the  bad 
angels  and  to  shield  Adam  from  harm.  There 
is  no  reference  to  any  obstacle  overcome  by 
Lucifer  in  causing  Adam's  fall.  The  loss, 
therefore,  in  such  a  treatment  is  threefold,  for 
God,  for  man,  and  for  Lucifer.  The  dramatic 
shock  in  the  last  act  of  Lucifer  is  bought  too 
dearly. 

As  brilliant  as  the  production  is,  it  is  surely 
outside  the  domain  of  tragedy.  If  ancient 
Greeks  with  reason  decided  against  the  present- 
ation of  the  Eumenides  of  JEschylus,  modern 
as  well  as  ancient  theories  of  tragedy  must 
count  against  Vondel's  Lucifer. 

The  stirring,  skilful  scenes  and  spirited  pas- 
sages, that  make  the  work  deservedly  admirable, 
belong  rather  to  the  epic  than  to  the  tragedy. 
The  whole  play  is  not  concrete  enough  for 
tragedy,  but  too  concrete  for  philosophical 
truth;  for  the  concreteness  of  tragedy  is  at 
variance  with  the  subject,  composed  as  it  is  of 


234    The  Epic  of  Paradise  Lost 

divine  machinery,  which  plays  its  part  in  the 
human  plot,  but  is  more  important  than  the 
human  plot.  The  effort  to  make  the  divine 
machinery  concrete  has  brought  loss  both  to 
the  reasonableness  of  the  characters,  and  of  the 
theme;  and  the  subordination  of  the  plot  in 
Eden  has  caused  a  loss  in  force  in  the  plot  of 
Lucifer's  fall.  All  this  might  have  been 
avoided  by  recognising  the  full  epic  back- 
ground and  by  resorting  to  the  epic  treatment. 
The  good  points  in  this  tragedy  are  of  the 
epic  nature  rather  than  of  that  of  the  tragedy; 
all  considerations  point  to  the  need  of  epic 
treatment  for  this  theme  of  the  origin  of  evil. 


SOME  EPIC  SCENES  IN  EARLIER  OR 
CONTEMPORARY  LITERATURE 

IF  Milton  could  find  little  direct  guidance  in 
his  quest  for  proper  art  form  for  the  theme 
of  the  fall  of  man,  from  these  tragedies,  there 
were  available  to  him  passages  from  works  on 
allied  or  different  themes  that  were  significant. 
Indeed  there  were  many  characterisations  of 
Satan  in  the  sixteenth  and  the  seventeenth 
century  that  might  arrest  the  attention  of  the 
author  of  Paradise  Lost, 

From  a  list  of  works  upon  different  themes, 
a  number,  that  were  of  undoubted  aid  to  Milton 
in  the  creation  of  the  character  of  Satan, 
should  be  noticed.  If  Tasso  in  II  Hondo  Creato 
had  been  of  small  service  to  Milton  such  was 
not  the  case  in  his  Jerusalem  Delivered.  In 
the  fourth  canto,  the  superhuman  figure  of  the 
grim  monarch  stands  forth  boldly  in  his  ap- 
peal to  the  imagination.  Through  description 
of  what  could  not  be  acted,  and  by  epic  speech- 
making,  the  effects  impossible  to  conceive  of 
235 


> 

236     The  Epic  of  Paradise  Lost       ^ 

in  a  tragedy  are  reasonable  through  the  epic 
devices. 

Pluto  calls  a  council  of  the  infernal  powers. 

Its  hoarse  alarm  the  Stygian  trumpet  sounded 

Through  the  dark  dwellings  of  the  damned ;  the  vast 

Tartarean  caverns  tremblingly  rebounded, 

Blind  air  rebellowing  to  the  dreary  blast : 

Hell  quaked  with  all  its  millions ;  never  cast 

The  ethereal  skies  a  discord  so  profound, 

When  the  red  lightning's  vivid  flash  was  past ; 

Nor  ever  with  such  tremors  rocked  the  ground, 

When  in  its  pregnant  womb  conflicting  fires  were  bound. 

The  gods  of  the  abyss  in  various  swarms 
From  all  sides  to  the  yawning  portals  throng, 
Obedient  to  the  signal — frightful  forms 
Strange  to  the  sight,  unspeakable  in  song, 
Death  glares  in  all  their  eyes  ;  .  .  . 

There  follows  a  description  of  Satan: 

They  took  their  stations  right  and  left  around 

The  grisly  king  ;  he,  cruel  of  command. 

Sate  in  the  midst  of  them,  and  sourly  frowned, 

The  huge,  rough  sceptre  waving  in  his  hand. 

No  Alpine  crag,  terrifically  grand. 

No  rock  at  sea  in  size  with  him  could  vie  ; 

Calpe,  and  Atlas  soaring  from  the  sand. 

Seemed  to  his  stature  little  hills,  so  high 

Reared  he  his  horned  front  in  that  Tartarean  sky. 

A  horrid  majesty  in  his  fierce  face 

Struck  deeper  terror,  and  increased  his  pride ; 

His  bloodshot  eyeballs  were  instinct  with  rays 

That  like  a  baleful  comet,  far  and  wide, 

Their  fatal  splendour  shed  on  every  side ;    .    .    . 


Some  Epic  Scenes  237 

We  may  notice  that  Tasso's  Prince  of  Dark- 
ness speaks  like  Milton's  Satan  in  some 
respects : 

**  Princes  of  Hell  I  but  worthier  far  to  fill 
In  Heaven,  whence  each  one  sprang,  his  diamond  throne; 
Ye,  who  with  me  were  hurled  from  the  blest  hill, 
Where,  brighter  than  the  morning-star,  we  shone. 
To  range  these  frightful  dungeons  I  ye  have  known, 
The  ancient  jealousies  and  fierce  disdains 
That  goaded  us  to  battle  ;  overthrown, 
We  are  judged  rebels,  and  besieged  with  pains, 
Whilst  o'er  his  radiant  hosts  the  happy  victor  reigns. 

**  And  for  the  etherial  air,  serene  and  pure. 
The  golden  sun,  the  starry  spheres,  his  hate 
Has  locked  us  in  this  bottomless  obscure, 
Forbidding  bold  ambition  to  translate 
Our  spirits  to  their  first  divine  estate  ; 
Then,  ah  the  bitter  thought !  't  is  this  which  aye 
Stings  me  to  madness,— then  did  he  create 
The  vile  worm  man,  that  thing  of  reptile  clay. 
To  fill  our  vacant  seats  in  those  blue  fields  of  day. 
Nor  this  sufficed  ;  to  spite  us  more,  he  gave 
His  only  Son,  his  darling,  to  the  dead ; 

•  •••••• 

*  *  And  shall  the  myriad  spirits  who  bestowed 
Tribute  on  us,  that  tribute  now  disdain, 
And  o'er  dispeopled  realms  abandoned  Pluto  reign? 

**  No  !  for  our  essences  are  yet  the  same, 
The  same  our  pride,  our  prowess,  and  our  power, 
As  when  with  sharp  steel  and  engirding  flame 
In  godlike  battle  we  withstood  the  flower 
Of  Heaven's  archangels ;  we  in  evil  hour 
Were  foiled,  I  grant ;  but  partial  chance,  not  skill 


238    The  Epic  of  Paradise  Lost 

Gave  them  the  victory, — still  we  scorned  to  cower  ; 
Victory  was  theirs,  but  an  unconquered  will 
Nobly  remained  to  us — it  fires  our  spirits  still  I 

**  Let  what  I  will,  be  fate  ; "     . 

The  effect  of  Tasso's  Satan  in  oratory  is  as 
potent  as  Milton's  upon  his  followers: 

Ere  yet  the  anarch  closed  his  fierce  harangue, 
His  rebel  angels  on  swift  wings  were  flown, 
Glad  to  revisit  the  pure  light ;  a  clang 
Of  pinions  passed,  and  he  was  left  alone. 

A  less  skilled  poet  than  Tasso  had  written 
also  a  spirited  description  of  Satan  and  com- 
posed for  the  defiant  foe  of  God  an  impious 
speech.  Milton  unquestionably  knew  this  work 
in  the  original  Italian,  and  he  could  hardly 
have  failed  to  read  Crashaw's  version  of  Sospetto 
d'Herode,  which  is  the  first  book  of  Strage 
degli  Innocenti  by  Marino.  This  kind  of 
speech  was  not  confined  to  the  epic.  It  is  true 
that  the  heroes  of  Homer  and  Virgil  make  long 
impassioned  speeches  that  give  life  to  the  coun- 
cil scenes  in  the  epic ;  but  Euripides  and  Seneca 
had  also  written  elaborate  heroic  speeches  in 
their  tragedies,  Shakespeare  and  Marlowe 
adopted  the  method  of  Euripides  in  this  re- 
spect, and  Sir  John  Denham  had  composed 
*  J.  H.  Wiffen's  translation. 


Some  Epic  Scenes  239  ^ 

speeches  In  the  Sophy  upon  the  classic  model. 
Milton  saw  the  advantage  of  such  speeches  for 
the  portrayal  of  Satan,  but  he  saw  also  that 
he  required  utterances  in  keeping  with  a  super- 
human creation  only  whose  outlines  could  not 
be  adequately  given  without  the  deliberation 
of  the  epic  and  its  varied  devices. 

Marino's  lines  are  more  excited  but  less  con- 
vincingly strong  than  those  of  Tasso's  composi- 
tion. Satan,  in  the  passage  from  Marino  about 
to  be  quoted,  is  enraged  at  the  news  of  Christ's 
birth;  so  that  the  time  presented  is  possibly 
two  thousand  years  later  than  Paradise  Lost; 
but  the  opposition  of  Satan  to  God  is  un- 
changed by  time,  his  memory  of  his  defeat  is  as 
stinging  as  when  he  first  arouses  himself  after 
the  battle  in  heaven. 

**  O  me  I "  thus  bellow*(i  he :    **  O  me  I    What  great 
Portents  before  mine  eyes  their  povv'r  advance? 
And  serve  my  purer  sight,  only  to  beat 
Down  my  proud  thought :  and  leave  it  in  a  trance  ? 
Frown  I :  and  can  great  Nature  keep  her  seat  ? 
And  the  gay  stars  lead  on  their  golden  dance  ? 
Can  His  attempts  above  still  prosperous  be, 
Auspicious  still,  in  spite  of  Hell  and  me  ? 

**He  has  my  heaven,  what  would  he  more?  Whose  bright 
And  radiant  sceptre  this  bold  hand  should  bear  ; 
And  for  the  never  fading  fields  of  light 
My  fair  inheritance.  He  confines  me  here 


^  240     The  Epic  of  Paradise  Lost 

To  this  dark  house  of  shades,  horror  and  night 
To  draw  a  long-lived  death,  where  all  my  cheer 
Is  the  solemnity  my  sorrows  wear 
That  mankind's  torment  waits  upon  my  tears. 

**  Dark  dusky  man,  He  needs  would  single  forth 
To  make  the  partner  of  His  own  pure  ray 
And  should  we  pow'rs  of  Heaven,  spirits  of  worth 
Bow  our  bright  heads  before  a  king  of  day  ? 
It  shall  not  be,  said  I,  and  clomb  the  north 
Where  never  wing  of  angel  yet  made  way  : 
What  though  I  miss'd  my  blow  ?    Yet  I  stroke  high  : 
And  to  dare  something  is  some  victory." 

**  Art  thou  not  Lucifer?  he  to  whom  the  droves 
Of  stars  that  gild  the  moon  in  charge  were  given  ?  " 

•  •••••• 

**  If  Hell  must  mourn,  Heaven  sure  shall  sympathise  ; 
What  force  cannot  effect,  fraud  shall  devise." 

**  And  yet  whose  force  fear  1 1    Have  I  so  lost 
Myself?    My  strength,  too,  with  my  innocence? 
Come  try  who  dares,  Heaven,  Earth,  what  e'er  dost  boast 
A  borrowed  being,  make  thy  bold  defence  ; 
Come  thy  Creator,  too,  what  though  it  cost 
Me  yet  a  second  fall?    We 'd  try  our  strength. 
Heaven  saw  us  struggle  o'er  as  brave  a  fight 
Earth  now  should  see  and  tremble  at  the  sight." 

A  stronger  speech  from  Satan  is  to  be 
found  in  the  work  of  a  seventeenth-century 
English  poet.  Sir  Joseph  Beaumont,  whose 
wearisome  Psyche,  a  second  Psychomachia,  has 
furnished  "  many  flowers "  to  greater  men's 
gardens.     There    is    a    hideous    description    of 


Some  Epic  Scenes  241 

Satan  followed  by  a  well  composed  speech  of 
God's  unyielding  foe.  There  are  many  re- 
miniscences of  those  words  in  the  oratory  of 
the  archfiend  in  Paradise  Lost,  Satan,  though 
fallen,  boasts  an  unconquerable  mind,  and  a 
courage  unshaken.  He  encourages  his  follow- 
ers by  assurance  that  chance  only  took  from 
them  the  victory ;  and  in  the  next  encounter,  ex- 
perience will  reinforce  their  strength  in  arms. 
Their  highest  boast  now  may  be  that  they  have 
once  engaged  God's  army  in  conflict;  even 
though  they  failed,  they  should  not  despair,  for 
in  a  second  onslaught,  they  will  find  God  vulner- 
able through  man. 

**  I  yield  not  yet :    Defiance  Heaven,"  said  he, 
**  And  though  I  cannot  reach  thee  with  my  fire 
Yet  my  unconquered  brain  shall  able  be 
To  grapple  with  thee  :  nor  canst  thou  be  higher 
Than  my  brave  spirit :  know,  though  below  I  dwell, 
Heaven  has  no  stouter  hearts  than  strut  in  Hell." 


**  Courage,  my  Lords,  ye  are  the  same  who  once 
Ventured  on  that  renowned  design  with  me 
Against  the  Tyrant  called  Heaven's  righteous  Prince. 
What  though  chance  stole  from  us  that  victory? 
'T  was  the  first  field  we  fought ;  and  He  being  in 
His  own  dominion  might  more  easily  win." 

"I  am  resolved  to  find  Him  work  as  long 
As  He  and  His  eternity  can  last. 
16 


242     The  Epic  of  Paradise  Lost 

"My  spirit  never  must  forget  that  wrong 
Which  me  into  His  hateful  dungeon  cast. 
Nor  need  I  fear  Him  now,  since  I  can  be 
Victorious  yet — in  my  unconquered  will, 
Were  pow'r  but  mine,  I  would  defy  Him  still." 


**  Once  more  with  brave  confed'rate  daemons  rise 
And  grapple  with  the  Tyrant  of  the  skies." 


**  Yes  Lucifer,  thy  every  subject  boasts 
He  fought  the  armies  of  the  Lord  of  Hosts." 


**  But  yet  in  man,  His  darling  care, 
Yes,  we  shall  find  Him  vulnerable  there."  ^ 

In  Cowley's  epic,  Davideis,  Milton  found  not 
only  descriptions  of  hell  that  took  his  thought- 
ful attention,  but  scenes  also  in  heaven.  Be- 
neath the  silent  chambers  of  the  earth,  beneath 
the  waves,  where  no  dear  glimpse  of  the  sun's 
lovely  face  illuminates  the  solid  darkness,  Cow- 
ley placed  his  mighty  captive,  Lucifer.  Milton 
changed  the  cosmogony  and  conceived  of  hell 
as  outside  of  earth  and  of  the  solar  system  al- 
together, but  there  is  similarity  in  the  picture 

'  See  also  The  Glasse  of  Time  in  the  two  first  ages 
divinely  handled  hy  Thomas  Peyton  of  Lincolne's  Inne, 
Gent.,  London,  1623;  Strafford's  Niohe,  or  Age  of  Tears, 
1611,  Humphrey  Lownes's  press. 


Some  Epic  Scenes  243 

of  the  fallen  archangel  persistent  in  his  defiance : 
Proud  'midst  his  woes,  and  tyrant  in  his  chains. 

He  is  surrounded  by  his  myriads  of  followers, 
whom  Cowley  like  Milton,  also,  suggests  rather 
than  describes;  but  Milton  has  surpassed  him 
in  the  impressionistic  art  of  the  portrayal  of 
the  spirit  world. 

Here  are  Cowley's  words: 

Myriads  of  spirits  fell  wounded  round  him  there  ; 
With  dropping  lights  thick  shone  the  singed  air. 
Since  when  the  dismal  solace  of  their  woe, 
Has  only  been  weak  mankind  to  undo  ; 

■  •  •  •  •  .  • 

And,  though  no  less  he  knew  himself  too  weak 
The  smallest  Unk  of  strong  wrought  Fate  to  break  ; 
Yet  would  he  rage,  and  struggle  with  the  chain  ; 
Lov'd  to  rebel,  though  sure  that '  t  was  in  vain. 

Thrice  did  he  knock  his  iron  teeth,  thrice  howl, 
And  into  frowns  his  wrathful  forehead  rowl. 
His  eyes  dart  forth  red  flames,  which  scare  the  night. 
And  with  worse  fires  the  trembling  ghosts  affright. 
A  troop  of  ghastly  fiends  compass  him  round. 
And  greedily  catch  at  his  lips'  fear'd  sound: 
**  Are  we  such  nothings  then  I " 

**  Oh,  my  ill-chang'd  condition  I    Oh,  my  fate  I 
Did  I  lose  heaven  for  this?" 

With  that,  with  his  long  tail  he  lashed  his  breast, 
And  horribly  spoke  out  in  looks  the  rest. 


244    The  Epic  of  Paradise  Lost 

The  quaking  powers  of  night  stood  in  amaze, 
And  at  each  other  first  could  only  gaze. 
A  dreadful  silence  fill'd  the  hollow  place, 

No  hiss  of  snake,  no  clank  of  chains  was  known, 
The  souls  amidst  their  tortures  durst  not  groan. 

Thus  Satan  raged  against  young  David, 
from  whose  seed  Christ  was  to  be  born.  Mean- 
while David  slept  peacefully,  and  Cowley  con- 
tinues in  these  lines: 

Sleep  on,  rest  quiet  as  thy  conscience  take, 

For  though  thou  sleep'st  thyself,  thy  God 's  awake. 

And  there  follows  a  dignified,  suggestive  de- 
scription of  heaven: 

Above  the  subtle  foldings  of  the  sky. 
Above  the  well-set  orb's  soft  harmony, 
Above  the  pretty  lamps  that  gild  the  night ; 
There  is  a  place  o'erflown  with  hallo w'd  light  ; 

For  there  no  twilight  of  the  sun's  dull  ray, 
Glimmers  upon  the  pure  and  native  day. 

Nothing  is  there  to  come,  and  nothing  past. 
But  an  eternal  now  does  always  last. 
There  sits  th'  Almighty,  First  of  all,  and  End, 
Whom  nothing  but  Himself  can  comprehend. 

Not  only  has  Cowley  thus  depicted  Lucifer 
and  God,  but  he  also  attempts  the  spirits  of 
heaven : 


Some  Epic  Scenes  245 

When  Gabriel  (no  blest  spirit  more  kind  or  fair) 
Bodies  and  clothes  himself  with  thicken'd  air. 
All  like  a  comely  youth  in  life's  fresh  bloom, 
Rare  workmanship,  and  wrought  by  heavenly  loom; 
He  took  for  skin,  a  cloud  most  soft  and  bright. 
That  ere  the  midday  sun  pierc'd  through  with  light : 
Upon  his  cheeks  a  lively  blush  he  spread  ; 
Wash'd  from  the  morning  beauties'  deepest  red. 

The  tendency  in  Cowley  is  to  the  diflfuseness 
of  over-elaboration  rather  than  to  condensed  en- 
ergy. The  imaginative  effect  of  certain  lines 
certainly  reaches  toward  epic  height,  and  the 
range  is  also  epical.  However,  to  the  sensitive 
ear  of  Milton  there  must  have  been  much  to 
desire  in  the  sweep  of  the  lines ;  for  the  melody 
instead  of  expressing  the  elevation  is  frequently 
at  variance  with  it,  and  may  well  have  hastened 
Milton's  conclusion  in  Ids  prefatory  note  to  Par- 
adise Lost,  on  "  The  Verse  " : 

The  measure  is  English  heroic  verse  without  rime,  as 
that  of  Homer  in  Greek,  and  of  Virgil  in  Latin  ;  rime 
being  no  necessary  adjunct  or  true  ornament  of  a  poem 
or  good  verse,  in  longer  works  especially,  but  the  inven- 
tion of  a  barbarous  age,  to  set  off  wretched  matter  and 
lame  meter ;  grac't  indeed  since  by  the  use  of  some 
famous  modern  poets,  carried  away  by  custom,  but 
much  to  their  own  vexation,  hindrance,  and  constraint 
to  express  many  things  otherwise,  and  for  the  most  part 
worse,  than  else  they  would  have  exprest  them. 

Nor  are  the  pictures  grasped  in  these  pas- 


246    The  Epic  of  Paradise  Lost 

sages  from  Cowley,  but  the  effect  is  suggested 
by  surroundings  or  atmosphere.  There  was 
still  much  to  be  done  before  the  epical  material 
could  emerge  in  the  clearer  outline  attained  in 
Paradise  Lost. 

There  are  passages  of  greater  power  that 
bear  in  themselves  proof  of  their  influence  over 
the  mind  of  Milton  in  his  construction  of  Para- 
dise Lost.  For  instance,  the  guardians  of 
hell's  gates  in  Milton's  epic  are  found  also  in 
the  Apollyonists,  a  Spenserian  poem  by  Phin- 
eas  Fletcher,  written  against  the  power  of  the 
Jesuits  in  England.  Here  Lucifer  appears  as 
the  father  of  the  Jesuits,  he  calls  a  council  in 
hell  for  which  the  iron  gates  are  flung  open. 

The  porter  to  the  infernal  gate  is  sin, 
A  shapeless  shape,  a  foule  deformed  thing, 
Nor  nothing,  nor  a  substance ;  as  these  thin 
And  empty  formes,  which  through  the  ayer  fling 
Their  wandering  shapes,  at  length  they'r  fasten'd  in 
The  chrystall  sight.     It  serves,  yet  reigns  as  King* 
It  lives,  yet 's  death  :  it  pleases,  full  of  paine  : 
Monster  I  ah  who,  who  can  thy  beeing  f  aigne  ? 
Thou  shapeless  shape,  live  death,  paine  pleasing,  servile 
reigne. 

When  the  spirits  have  assembled,  Satan  sits 

aloft : 

To  be  in  Heaven  the  second,  he  disdaines  : 

So  now  the  first  in  Hell,  and  flames  he  raignes, 


Some  Epic  Scenes  247 

Crowned  once  with  joy,  and  light :  crowned  now  with 
fire  and  paines. 

In  another  work  of  Phineas  Fletcher's,  the 
Latin  poem  Locustce,  there  is  a  speech  of  Satan 
nearer  in  some  respects  to  the  oratory  of  the 
fallen  Lucifer  in  Paradise  Lost.  Like  Satan  in 
the  first  book  of  Milton's  epic  he  spurs  his  dis- 
mayed army  with  irony  and  ridicule: 

"  Can  you  degenerate  souls,  inactive  lie. 
You,  who  have  shook  the  empire  of  the  sky  ? 
Can  you,  who  grasped  at  Heaven,  and  greatly  fell 
From  slaves  above,  to  reign  supreme  in  Hell? 
Who  fac'd  the  thunder  in  a  burning  show'r 
And  fought  intrepid  'gainst  the  Almighty  pow*r. 
Can  you,  thus  lame,  behold  your  abject  fate 
Nor  prop  the  ruin  of  our  falling  state  ?  " 


**  But  you,  perhaps,  forget  your  ancient  feud, 
And  pious  slaves,  degen'rate  into  good. 
Best  seek  those  honours  you  enjoy'd  before 
Suppliant  with  pray'rs,  the  thunderer  adore. 
Perhaps  you'll  shine  with  cherubim  again 
And  Heaven  relenting  break  the  eternal  chain  ; 
Once  more  with  flaming  ministers  enrolled 
The  effulgence  of  Divinity  behold. 
But  could  Repentance  deprecate  my  crime. 
Or  were  my  tortures  limited  by  time. 
And  tho'  by  base  submission,  it  were  given 
Once  more  to  gain  yon  abdicated  Heaven, 
Rather  than  fawn,  or  sink  so  meanly  low 
I'll  howl  amidst  infinity  of  woe. 
Once  more  to  gain  yon  abdicated  Heaven 


248    The  Epic  of  Paradise  Lost 

That  easy  God  I'd  scorn,  whom  now  I  hate, 
If  he  had  punished  with  a  milder  fate."  * 

The  management  of  such  attributes  as  jus- 
tice and  mercy  in  Giles  Fletcher's  Christ's  Vic- 
tor!/ and  Triumph  may  have  aided  Milton  in 
his  conclusion  to  fuse  all  the  allegorical  ele- 
ments into  the  method  of  Paradise  Lost,  in  the 
eleventh  and  twelfth  books. 

Stronger  than  all  these  influences,  was  the 
result  of  Milton's  long  meditation  upon  the 
great  literature  of  the  classic  world,  as  may 
be  seen  from  his  introduction  to  Book  IX  of 
Paradise  Lost: 

No  more  of  talk  where  God  or  angel  guest 
With  man,  as  with  his  friend,  familiar  us'd 
To  sit  indulgent,  and  with  him  partake 
Rural  repast,  permitting  him  the  while 
Venial  discourse  unblam'd :  (I  now  must  change 
Those  notes  to  tragic) ;  foul  distrust,  and  breach 
Disloyal  on  the  part  of  man,  revolt, 
And  disobedience  :  on  the  part  of  heaven 
Now  alienated,  distance  and  distaste. 
Anger,  and  just  rebuke,  and  judgment  given, 
That  brought  into  this  world  a  world  of  woe  ; 
Sin  and  her  shadow  Death,  and  Misery- 
Deaf /I's  harbinger :  sad  task,  yet  argument 
Not  less  hut  more  heroic  than  the  wrath 
Of  stern  Achilles  on  his  foe  pursued 
Thrice  fugitive  about  Troy  wall ;  or  rage 
Of  Tumus  for  Lavinia  disespous'd, 

>  Sterling  translation. 


Some  Epic  Scenes  249 

Or  Neptune's  ire  or  Juno's,  that  so  long 

Perplex  ^d  the  Ghreek  and  Cytherea^s  son  : 

If  answerable  style  lean  obtain 

Of  my  celestial  patroness,  who  deigns 

Her  nightly  visitation  unimplor'd, 

And  dictates  to  me  slumb'ring,  or  inspires 

Easy  my  unpremeditated  verse  : 

Since  first  this  subject  for  heroic  song 

Pleas' d  me,  long  choosing  and  beginning  late  ; 

Not  sedulous  by  nature  to  indite 

Wars,  hitherto  the  only  argument 

Heroic  deemed,  chief  mastery  to  dissect 

With  long  and  tedious  havock  fabled  knights 

In  battles  feign' d ;  the  better  fortitude 

Of  patience  and  heroic  martyrdom 

Unsung  ;  or  to  describe  races  and  games. 

Or  tilting  furniture,  imblazon'd  shields, 

Impresses  quaint,  caparisons  and  steeds  ; 

Bases  and  tinsel  trappings,  gorgeous  knights 

At  joust  and  tournament ;  then  marshal'd  feast 

Serv'd  up  in  hall  with  sewers,  and  seneschals  ; 

The  skill  of  artifice,  or  office  mean. 

Not  that  which  justly  gives  heroic  name 

To  person  or  to  poem.    Me,  of  these 

Nor  skilVd  nor  studious,  higher  argument 

Remains,  sufficient  of  itself  to  raise 

That  name,  unless  an  age  too  late,  or  cold 

Climate,  or  years  damp  my  intended  wing 

Depress  'd,  and  much  they  w,ay,  if  all  be  mine, 

Not  hers  who  brings  it  nightly  to  my  ear. 

With  this  as  Milton's  conclusion,  we  are 
brought  to  the  end  of  our  quest,  to  Paradise 
Lost,  and  in  the  next  essay  we  shall  note  Mil- 
ton's finished  art  in  the  epic. 


XI 

GOD,  SATAN,  ADAM,  AND  EVE 

P>  ARADISE  LOST  represents  the  work  of 
a  lifetime.^  Even  after  there  is  reason 
to  beheve  that  Milton  had  decided  to  write  not 
a  tragedy,  but  an  epic  upon  man's  fall,  he 
laboured  seven  years  more  to  produce  his  mas- 
terpiece. In  his  fifty-eighth  year,  the  poem 
was  ready  for  the  press,  and  two  years  later,  in 
1667,  appeared  in  its  first  edition  in  ten  books. 
The  argument  of  every  book  and  the  note  on 
the  verse  were  added  in  a  reprint. 

In  the  second  edition,  in  1674,  the  epic  was 
published  in  twelve  books,^  and  fourteen  years 
later  Tonson  produced  his  beautiful  folio 
known  as  the  Somers  edition,  containing  twelve 
plates;    among    them    Milton's    portrait    with 

>  Address  to  the  Sun,  1642. 

Adarn's  and  Eve's  lament  over  loss  of  Paradise  near 
the  same  date. 

Paradise  Lost  begun  according  to  Aubrey,  1658.  Fin- 
ished 1665.     First  edition,  1667. 

» Books  VII  and  X  enlarged  and  divided, 
250 


God,  Satan,  Adam,  and  EVe  251 

Dry  den's  lines  engraved  below.  ^  In  less  than  a 
hundred  years  after  its  first  appearance  Para- 
dise Lost  reached  its  fifty-sixth  edition,  and 
it  had  been  translated  twelve  times. 

Milton's  version  of  man's  fall  has  not  only 
absorbed  the  student,  but  it  has  delighted  the 
reader  for  art's  sake.  It  has  been  seized  as 
a  creed  by  the  multitudes,  and  it  has  rooted 
itself  as  folk-lore  among  the  ignorant;  the 
range  of  its  appeal  is  therefore  wide.  Indeed, 
before  his  epic  had  attained  translation  into 
more  than  eighteen  tongues,  the  words  of  Mil- 
ton in  Epitaphium  Damonis  were  justified;  for 
surely  he  was  not  in  this  aim  over-boastful,  that 
he  should  "  be  read  from  yellow-haired  Ouse  to 
the  wave-worn  shores  of  the  far  Orkneys,"  for 
he  was  known  beyond  all  realms  of  this  dream 
of  his  youth  far  "  in  the  land  of  the  stranger." 

As  Milton  has  himself  written  the  arguments 
for  every  book  of  his  great  epic,  it  would  be  a 

1  Three  poets,  in  three  distant  ages  born, 
Greece,  Italy,  and  England  did  adorn. 
The  first  in  loftiness  of  thought  surpassed, 
The  next  in  majesty,  in  both  the  last. 
The  force  of  nature  could  no  farther  go  ; 
To  make  a  third  she  joined  the  former  two. 
Lines  printed  under  the  engraved  portrait  of  Milton  in 
Tonson's  edition  of  Paradise  Lost,  1688. 


252    The  Epic  of  Paradise  Lost 

work  of  supererogation  to  more  than  outline  the 
plan  of  Paradise  Lost,  Upon  his  grasp  of 
the  epic  background,  we  have  already  suffi- 
ciently expatiated  in  essays  one,  two,  and  three, 
of  this  volume.  It  must  be  the  chief  purpose 
of  this  essay  to  indicate  his  skill  in  Paradise 
Lost  in  the  characterisations  of  God,  of  Satan, 
and  of  Adam  and  Eve,  and  to  note  his  depend- 
jence  upon  the  epical  method  for  his  measure  of 
success. 

Milton  has  found  the  epical  invocation  an 
artistic  aid  in  several  ways ;  for  instance  it 
renders  it  reasonable  for  the  author  to  relate 
what  he  could  not  be  supposed  to  know  without 
help  divine,  and  it  makes  prominent  the  dom- 
ination of  God  through  the  entire  epic,  which 
is  important  from  both  an  artistic  and  a  philo- 
sophical point  of  view  in  Paradise  Lost,  The 
invocations  also  promote  the  stately  elevation 
of  the  style. 

Aside  from  these  considerations,  the  invoca- 
tions are  of  interest  to  the  student  of  Paradise 
Lost  from  the  fact  that  they  reveal  a  peculiarity 
of  Milton's  mind,  for  he  adopts  no  convention 
of  the  epic  blindly,  but  all  devices  interest  him 
from  a  philosophical  point  of  view, — therefore 
no    matter   how    much    he    may    borrow,   he   is 


God,  Satan,  Adam,  and  Eve  253 

always  essentially  original.  To  Milton  the  '. 
heavenly  muse  is  not  only  Urania,  but  she  is  ^ 
the  holy  spirit  that  revealed  the  mysteries  of 
God  to  Moses;  she  is  the  light  that  may  ir- 
radiate his  mind  so  that  he  may  see  and  tell 
of  things  invisible  to  mortal  sight.  Milton's 
tendency  is  more  modern  than  classic  in  this 
philosophical  bent  toward  a  comparative  view 
of  religions. 

After  his  first  invocation,  Milton  introduces 
the  important  theme  for  the  unfolding  of  which 
he  needs  superhuman  aid.     In  a  tragedy,  man 
may  grope  for  the  forces  that  are  at  play;  in  I 
an  epic,  they  are  relatively  clear  and  so  Milton 
propounds  his  question.  What  caused  the  first  1   *— — — 
parents  to  sin?  and  he  proceeds  at  once,  after 
invoking  the  aid  of  the  heavenly  muse,  to  an- 
swer it.     It  was  the  infernal  serpent  stirred  up 
with  envy  and  revenge,  who  after  he  was  cast 
out  of  heaven  deceived  the  mother  of  mankind. 
Thus  at  the  outset  of  the  epic  the  powers  op- 
posed  in   combat   are   perfectly   defined:  Satan \.  x^^ 
at  first  against  God  alone,  afterwards  against 
God  through  man;  and  the  two  plots   of  the  | , .  ^^  ^..^i 
inll  of  Lucifer,  and  of  the  fall  of  man  are  the  ^^^^-^  * 
logical  outcome  of  this   situation   and   supply 
the  twofold  plot  for  the  epic,   "~"V  V  *  '!> » 


7\ 

254     The  Epic  of  Paradise  Lost 

The  rebelling  archangel  becomes  the  bond  of 
unity  between  the  two  plots,  and  the  tempta- 
tion scene,  the  point  of  intersection  of  the  two 
i^pisodes,  is  for  this  reason  the  dynamic  centre 
of  the  epic.  Lucifer  originates  the  action  in 
both  episodes  but  he  is  not  therefore  the  hero. 
Not  even  in  a  classic  epic  did  he  who  originated 
the  action  become  necessarily  the  hero;  but 
quite  as  often  the  resistance  to  the  initial  ac- 
tion marks  the  hero.  The  whole  structure  of 
Milton's  epic  is  reared  to  show  how,  by  resisting 

\^''  I  Satan's  scheme,  the  Son  of  God  triumphed  as 
^    7^^^^  hero  of  Paradise  Lost, 

'^^^  J^  Milton  spared  no  pains  to  paint  the  magnifi- 
•  cent  display  of  God's  power,  when  the  Messiah 

cast  the  rebellious  angel  out  of  heaven  and  re- 
turned amidst  the  songs  of  triumph  of  the  hosts 
of  loyal  angels  to  his  seat  at  God's  right  hand. 
Now  defeated  in  heaven,  Satan  carries  his  war 
into  Eden,  and  by  subtlety  rather  than  with 
courage  for  open  battle,  he  attacks  the  dweller 
in  Paradise.  Adam  and  Eve  are  thus  acted 
upon  by  Satan,  and  they  at  first  resist  the  evil 
influence ;  but  a  latent  vanity  in  Eve  at  length 
weakens  the  defence,  she  yields  to  the  blandish- 
ments of  the  serpent;  then  the  growing  blind- 
ness of  passion  in  Adam  for  Eve  makes  possible 


God,  Sat?[n,  Adam,  and  Eve  255 

his  surrender,  and  Satan  triumphs  in  their  fall; 
but  the  war  is  not  at  an  end,  for  man  is  not 
given  over  to  Satan. 

Endowed  with  free  will,  man  had  fallen 
through  an  unworthy  choice,  but  through  a 
nobler  choice  he  might  yet  obtain  salvation  and 
thus  triumph  over  evil;  divine  love  hastens  to 
man's  rescue  and  the  Messiah's  resistance  to 
Satan  assumes  even  a  deeper  spiritual  signifi- 
cance in  the  contest  in  the  garden  of  Eden  than 
within  the  realm  of  heaven.  Upon  Milton's 
genius  here,  lies  the  burden  of  clothing  in  epical 
action  the  philosophy  expounded  in  the  Treatise 
on  Christian  Doctrine,  Through  remorse,  evenJI 
despair,  through  a  consciousness  of  a  sin  that 
he  would  fain  escape,  Adam  makes  his  way  to 
repentance  and  a  persistent  desire  for  a  right 
relation  with  God.  It  is  true  that  retribution 
falls  upon  the  erring  ones,  for  they  must  leave 
the  earthly  Paradise ;  but  the  penalty,  after  all, 
enhances  man's  dignity,  for  he  enters  into  an 
appreciation  of  his  high  birthright  through 
the  dignity  of  suffering,  and  his  inheritance  is 
worth  a  contest  to  regain., 

^Meanwhile  Satan  does  not  gain  dominion 
over  mankind.  The  decree  of  God  that  to  his 
Son  every  knee  should  bow  is  unrevoked,  and 


256     The  Epic  of  Paradise  Lost 

his  proclamation  that  men  should  people  the 
depleted  halls  of  heaven  is  valid;  Satan,  there- 
fore, is  defeated  in  both  plots  against  God's 
authority,  and  Christ  is  triumphant,  both  in 
heaven  and  on  earth.  But  Christ's  victory  is 
not  the  kind  of  triumph  most  often  found  in 
the  classic  epics,  for  through  a  sacrifice  that 
most  eloquently  sets  forth  divine  goodness, 
Christ  is  victorious,  and  through  a  display  of 
dark  passions  that  can  bring  only  degradation, 
Satan  meets  defeat.  Beauty  and  goodness 
carry  triumph  in  their  train ;  and  this  is  Mil-  ^ 
s ton's    Christian    Platonism. 

Paradise  Lost  is  a  Christian  epic  and  Christ 
is  the  hero.  Milton  has  laid  the  classic  epic 
under  tribute  for  details  that  adorn  a  new  and, 
in  most  respects  modern  type.  There  were  two 
artistic  problems  involved  in  his  attempt :  Jiow 
:^s  he  to  present  God,  omnipotent,  omniscient, 
^Jid_  omnipresent,  and  how  was  he  to  clothe 
in  action,  both  artistically  and  efficiently,  the 
theories   of  man's   free  will.? 

Milton  was   aware  that  the  characterisation^ 
of  God  was  an  impossible  undertaking;  for  inv 
the    Treatise    on    Christian    Doctrine,    he    has    \ 
stated  his  belief  that  to  a  finite  mind  God  was   4 
incomprehensible.     How  can  the  unknowable  be 


0 


God,  Satan,  Adam,  and  Eve  257 

definitely  enough  conceived  for  the  clearness 
required  by  art?  that  was  Milton's  problem, 
and  his  consciousness  of  this  unattainable  goal 
stiffened  his  style  when  he  set  about  a  portrayal*^ 
of  God.  However  he  made  a  gallant  attempt; 
and  he  very  wisely  called  to  his  aid  the  Bible 
phraseology,  for  the  language  of  religious  as- 
sociation would  be  invaluable  in  promoting  the 
elevation  of  his  style  and  it  would  lend  dignity 
to  his  effort.^ 

Milton  had  not  attempted  a  portrayal  of 
God  in  his  plans  for  a  tragedy.  The  effort 
made  by  Grotius  in  A  damns  Exsul  had  not 
been  successful,  for  God  appeared  to  be  neither 
omniscient  nor  omnipotent.  The  attempt  made 
by  Vondel  in  Adam  in  Ballingschap  and  in 
Lucifer  had  not  convinced  the  reader  that 
God  had  sufficiently  warned  Adam  of  danger 
or  adequately  guarded  Eden.  Indeed  if  in 
these  tragedies  the  plotting  fiends  do  show 
some  apprehension  of  discovery  by  the  angel 
guests,  they  have  no  very  consistent  fear  of 
the  all-seeing  eye  of  God.  Moreover,  even  in 
heaven,  God  seems  dependent  upon  the  report 
of  the  loyal  angels  for  knowledge  of  what  is 
taking  place.  Otherwise  the  sedition  under  the 
leadership  of  Lucifer  could  not  have  made  such 


(258/   The  Epic  of  Paradise  Lost 

progress  before  God  appears  to  have  had  any 
inkHng  df  the  rebeUion.  Indeed,  wrapped  in 
mists  and  aloof  from  His  kingdom,  both  in 
-  heaven  and  on  earth.  He  has  other  interests  and 
other  cares  apparently.  Milton  has  changed 
all  this. 

•^  In  Paradise  Lost  God  dominates  all.  He 
not  only  sees  every  movement  of  Satan,  but 
long  before  his  intrigues  knows  what  he  will 
attempt.  The  Almighty  Father  discusses  all 
the  problems  of  government  with  His  Son.  He 
knows  that  Satan  will  attack  man  and  find  him 
vulnerable  through  his  free  will,  which  makes 
possible  the  choice  of  good  or  of  evil.  Adam 
cannot  be  deprived  of  his  free  will  without 
the  loss  of  power  and  of  dignity.  He  must 
^  ^      learn  to  choose  wisely,  and  here  is  the  universal 

^r  K     / 


,^  ^. 


'  ,J^  I  human  problem.  How  can  man  choose  wisely  ? 
Milton's  Paradise  is  not  a  background  for  an 
artificial  Adam  surrounded  with  toy  angels, 
but  it  is  man's  life  in  epitome.  Milton's  con- 
clusion that  Adam  must  learn  through  suffer- 
ing is  inevitable,  and  his  triumph  must  be  like 
Lear  in  the  assurance  that  he  has  learned  to 
^  discriminate  good  from  evil.     Even  Eden  then 

is    not    so    important,   because   anywhere   they 
could  "  sing  like  birds  in  a  cage." 


God,  Satan,  Adam,  ^and  Eve    259 

The  underlying  plan  in  Paradise  Lost  is  con-  !^:»k^ 
vincing;  God  is  unresting  in  his  fatherly  careW^^ 
of  man,  He  inspires  the  loving  sacrifice  of  the 
Messiah.  The  angels  are  ministers  of  God's 
pleasure  and  are  manifestations  of  His  gracious 
soUcitude  for  men.  There  is  no  flaw  in  their 
discipline,  there  is  no  defect  in  their  zeal  to 
discharge  their  duty,  there  is  no  weak  point  in 
their  resistance  to  evil,  and  there  is  no  loophole 
of  escape  from  the  responsibility  of  Adam  and 
Eve.  They  fall  from  no  one's  carelessness  nor 
inefficiency,  but  from  their  own  free  will.  Of 
that  the  reader  is  so  convinced  that  when  the 
guardian  angels,  on  the  day  of  man's  fall,  rise 
mute  with  dismay  to  God's  throne,  their  acquit- 
tal by  God  of  any  charge  of  negligence  seems 
inevitable.  "  Force  against  free  will  had  there 
no  place  "  and  all  else  had  been  tried.  True, 
the  angels  were  not  omniscient,  thkt  was  an 
attribute  of  God  alone.  \ 

The  words  put  by  Milton  into  the  mouth  of 
God  in  the  third  book,  for  instance,  are  not, 
however,  so  fortunate  and  detract  much  from 
the  beauty  and  dignity  of  his  characterisation 
of  God.  The  reader  may  accept  every  con- 
clusion in  Paradise  Lost,  while  he  deplores  a 
presentation  of  God  that  represents  him  as  ego- 


26o    The  Epic  of  Paradise  Lost 

.tistical,  as  mindful  of  his  own  dignity,  and  as 
guarding  himself  against  the  attack  of  the 
schoolmen.  The  poet  seems  to  have  too  vivid  a 
memory  of  theological  disputes  not  to  intro- 
duce a  polemical  spirit  into  heaven.  This  at- 
mosphere of  debate  and  of  self -justification  is 
at  variance  with  the  majestic  sweetness  that  we 
may  believe  sits  there  enthroned. 

Milton  was  dominated  by  "  the  old  dispens- 
ation "  as  well  as  the  new ;  but  in  certain  re- 
spects, he  had  not  fused  them  into  unity.  As 
proof  of  this,  in  the  Treatise  on  Christian 
Doctrine,  justice  is  treated  with  a  degree  of 
enthusiasm  that  far  surpasses  the  somewhat 
perfunctory  comment  upon  mercy.  In  fact, 
intellectually,  as  he  more  than  once  asserted, 
Milton  had  accepted  a  union  of  justice  and 
mercy,  and  he  had  even  declared  that  he  put 
mercy  above  justice,  but  in  his  heart  he  was 
prone  to  put  justice  above  mercy,  for  this 
both  his  polemical  writings  and  Paradise  Lost 
would  indicate.  This  peculiar  twist  of  his  na- 
ture affected  his  art  and  made  inconsistent  his 
characterisation  of  God. 

The  conception  that  he  that  sits  in  the 
heavens  shall  laugh,  God  shall  hold  them  in  de- 
rision impressed  him,  and  not  alone  the  logical 


God,  Satan,  Adam,  and  Eve  261 

inference  from  Christ's  teachings  that  enjoin 
not  an  eye  for  an  eye  but  pity  for  the  evil- 
does.  Milton  may  declare  as  his  belief  that 
the  curse  of  evil  is  continuance  in  evil,  but 
would  he  picture  a  wronged  and  suffering  Pro- 
metheus striving  to  remember  the  words  of  that 
curse  that,  in  his  first  pain,  he  hurled  against 
his  torturer?  The  conviction  had  come  to  the 
Titan  that  Zeus  suffered  enough  in  being  evil; 
Prometheus  had  learned  to  pity  the  tyrant ;  and 
now  he  would  retract  the  words  of  hate.  In 
this  regard  Shelley  and  Vondel  are  superior  to 
Milton,  for  there  is  no  doubt  that  Vondel,  too, 
better  comprehended  divine  love,  as  may  be 
seen  in  his  portrayal  of  the  solicitude  of  Ra- 
phael for  the  erring  archangel  ^  Lucifer.  Of 
all  the  bright  throngs  .  of  Milton's  heaven,  no 
one  pities  Lucifer  in  his  fall, — and  yet  he  had 
been  the  most  influential  of  all  the  starry 
hosts.  There  are  indications  that  Milton  is 
as  stem  as  Dante  without  his  violence,  but  with- 
out  also   his    convincing   tenderness. 

Impossible   as   a   perfect   characterisation   of 

God  must  be  to  the  finite  mind,  it  is  evident  that 

the    defects     in     Milton's     portrayal    are    not 

all    essential    to    the    attempt    to    present    the 

>  See  the  ninth  essay  of  this  volume. 


2  62    The  Epic  of  Paradise  Lost 

infinite,  but  that  they  are  in  part  blemishes 
that  are  conditioned  by  his  peculiar  turn  of  mind. 
The  second  difficulty  in  Paradise  Lost  is 
allied  to  the  portrayal  of  God,  that  is  the  at- 
tempt to  treat  in  art  the  problem  of  man's  free 
will;  and  this  entails  perplexities  in  itself.  All 
^/^trains  of  thought  indeed  in  Paradise  Lost  must 

\lead  to  the  conclusion  of  the  responsibility  of 
man's  free  will.  Milton  was  aware  that  all 
dogma  imperilled  the  life  of  the  epic  and  he 
tfas  spared  no  pains  to  throw  his  philosophical 
principles  into  action ;  for  this  end  he  has  en- 
hsted  every  epic  device  that  might  give  vigour 
to  his  difficult  theme.  There  is  however  a  de- 
gree of  impossibility  involved  in  the  material  as 
he  conceived  it,  and  in  this  respect  he  shows 
the  baleful  influence  of  contemporary  thought. 
The  passages  of  discussion  of  foreknowledge 
and  free  will  have  not  been  all  fused  by  emotion 
and  imagination,  but  remain  unepical  dogma. 
Here  Milton  was  doomed  to  failure,  but  he  was 
right  in  feeling  that  his  hope  for  success  in 
his  theme  lay  first  of  all  in  the  strength  of  the 
characterisation  of  Satan  and  Eve,  and  in  this 
phase  of  his  art  he  has  won  the  greatest  meas- 
ure of  triumph. 

The  first  step  in  an  adequate  presentation  of 


God,  Satan,  Adam,  and  Eve  263 

Satan  was  taken  in  his  portrayal  of  God.  The  ^' 
poet  has  not  failed  to  present  an  all-powerful, 
all-seeing  God  whose  opposition  to  the  machina- 
tions of  Satan  is  continuous.  In  his  drafts  for 
tragedy,  Milton  had  failed  to  present  Satan 
fully.  In  A  damns  Exsul,  God's  foe  might 
have  been  Mephistopheles,  the  ambassador  of 
the  archfiend,  rather  than  that  great  adversary 
in  person.  In  Adam  in  Ballings  chap,  and  in 
Lucifer,  only  the  name  remains  to  identify  the 
base  bandit  with  the  commanding  figure  of  the 
former  angel  of  light,  and  his  power  is  not 
sufficiently  put  to  the  test  in  Eden,  for  his 
victory  is  too  easily  won.  In  UAdamo,  the 
fiends  crowd  and  jostle  one  another  to  the  loss 
of  the  conception  of  the  figure  of  God's  great 
protagonist.  All  these  difficulties  Milton  over- 
came in  Paradise  Lost.  In  the  characterisa-^* 
»tion  of  Satan,  Milton  has  indeed  shown  the 
highest  order  of  genius.  He  has  created  a 
spirit  worthy  once  to  be  an  angel  of  light,  en- 
dowed with  great  powers  of  mind  and  heart ;  he 
fell  through  a  defect  that  was  allied  to  his  vir- 
tues, and  degenerated  into  a  fiend,  possessed  not 
of  alien  characteristics,  but  of  qualities  that  re- 
sult from  a  consistent  downward  development. 
The  poet  has  created  an  enlarged  psychology 


264    The  Epic  of  Paradise  Lost 

» for  Satan ;  he  is  never  a  man  but  superhuman 
always,  all  of  his  capabilities  of  mind  and  heart 
are  on  a  larger  scale  than  human.  This  achieve- 
ment is  a  triumph  of  epic  art. 

First  of  all,  in  the  portrayal  of  Satan,  Mil- 
ton concluded  that  the  fall  of  Lucifer,  the  most 
beautiful  spirit  in  heaven,  into  outer  darkness 
should  not  be  passed  over  hurriedly.  The 
Angel  of  the  Morning  Star,  reverenced  by  his 
fellow  angels  for  his  beauty  and  strength, 
came  to  admire  his  own  splendour  and  to  trust 
his  own  power.  The  lurking  danger,  here,  , 
needed  only  a  motive  to  develop  the  defect. 
When  God's  decree  went  forth  that  every  knee 
in  heaven  should  bow  to  Messiah  as  reverently 
as  to  God,  Lucifer  resented  the  revelation 
herein  conveyed  that  he  no  longer  stood  second 
only  to  God  in  heaven,  and  he  was  jealous  for 
his  privileges. 

His  former  virtues  helped  him  to  a  following 
among  the  good  angels.  With  the  reasonable 
pretext  that  he  will  prepare  for  a  suitable  re- 
ception of  the  Messiah,  he  withdraws  with  his 
hosts  to  his  own  subordinate  kingdom  of  the 
Morning  Star.  He  now  stirs  up  a  rebellion. 
He  insinuates  that  "  knee  tribute  too  much  to 
onfi "  is  now  doubly  exacted.     Where  will  the 


God,  Satan,  Adam,  and  Eve  265 

infringements  of  the  angel  dignities  cease? 
Will  not  this  innovation  result  in  tyranny  JJ 
Thus  he  comes  more  directly  to  the  point  than 
Vondel's  Stadtholder,  and  there  is  less  Dutch 
provincialism  in  heaven.  As  it  may  be  reason- 
able to  suppose,  not  all  of  the  listening  angels 
fail  to  pierce  this  sophistry.  Indeed  Abdi^ 
makes  a  spirited  resistance.  The  angels,  he 
insists,  have  no  privileges  not  held  in  trust 
from  God.  In  his  reply  to  Abdiel,  Lucifer  then 
first  develops  the  spirit  of  negation.  "  Who 
knows?  Who  saw  God  create  the  angels  ?J 
Who  knows  that  they  are  dependent  upon  -* 
Him?"  Abdiel  indignantly  warns  Lucifer  of 
his  impious  folly  but  the  rebellious  archangel 
balances  servility  and  resistance,  and  he  de- 
liberately  chooses   war  with   God. 

.  Lucifer  after  this  evil  choice  can  no  longer  « 
remain  the  trusted  archangel  of  heaven  but 
^becomes  now  Satan,  God's  adversary.  There 
remain  three  terrible  days  of  conflict  before 
the  Messiah  sweeps  God's  foes  from  heaven  into 
the  bottomless  pit  of  hell,  and  Satan  begins 
to  understand.  Here  Milton  opens  his  epic. 
The  poet  thought  it  not  reasonable  that  the 
fallen  archangel  should  all  at  once  comprehend 
his  inward  change;  nor  should  he  lose  all  traces 


266    The  Epic  of  Paradise  Lost 

^.— of  his  original  brightness.     He  should  be  not 
less  than  archangel  ruined,  and  he  should  feel 
i^^liis  own  degradation. 

"^  Milton  conceived  him,  at  the  outset,  in  the 
first  book  of  Paradise  Lost  as  suffering  through 
his  sense  of  beauty.     The  surroundings  in  hell 
i:£pel  him  by  their  ghastly  ugliness   in   sharp 
contrast   with    the    radiant   beauty    of   heaven. 
However  he  is  resolved  that  he  is  unchanged, 
and  he  trusts  still  his  own  strength, — and  seeks 
^^.  relief    in    activity.     His    sense    of    generalship 
^^*'n    awakes,   for   he   thinks    of   his    loyal   followers. 
,0  iv«»  Satan  is  not  enwalled  by  a  petty  ego — ^but  his 
^   :       egotism  is  vast  in  its  scope.     Skilled  in  leader- 
^„^        ship  he  knows  how  to  appeal  to  the  dejected 
spirits,  by   a  conunendation   of  their  past   ex- 
ploits, by  jeering  at  their  present  abject  con- 
dition,   and    by    spurring  them    to    hope    and 
action  to  see  what  resolution  can  be  wrung  from 
despair.     In  his  speech  he  minimises  God's  vic- 
tory, for  the  Almighty  won  by  the  concealed 
weapon  of  the  thunderbolt  an  unsportsmanlike 
advantage  and,  therefore,  the  armies  met  in  no 
fair  field.     There  should  be  a  further  test  of 
^trength. 

At  the   council,   in   the   second  book,   Satan 
shows    the    power    of    silence    while    the    fallen 


God,  Satan,  Adam,  and  Eve    267 

angels  speak  their  minds  freely,  as  though  the 
question  of  peace  or  war  lay  entirely  in  their 
hands  for  decision.  True  the  mighty  potentate 
of  hell  upon  his  throne,  that  far  outshone  the 
splendour  of  Ormus  or  of  Ind,  assumes  great 
pomp,  but  he  skilfully  wards  off  all  envy  by 
reminding  his  followers  that, — 

"  no  strife  can  grow  up  there 
From  faction  ;  for  none  sure  will  claim  in  hell 
Precedence,  none,  whose  portion  is  so  small 
Of  present  pain,  that  with  ambitious  mind 
Will  covet  more." 

He  is  wise  in  directing  the  debate,   for  he 
announces  clearly  the  purpose  of  this  meeting. 

**  Whether  of  open  war  or  covert  guile, 
We  now  debate  ; " 

He  listens  to  hot-headed  ^oloch,  "  whose  sen- 
tence is  for  open  war  "  and  who  scorns  slyer 
methods;  to  the  urbane  and  plausible  Belial, 
who  "  could  make  the  worse  appear  the  better 
reason,"  and  now  counselled  "  ignoble  ease  and 
peaceful  sloth "  on  grounds  that  they  might 
make  matters  worse,  if  they  attempted  to  re- 
sist; and  he  hears  without  comment,  the  prac- 
tical  advice  of  Mammon,  who  states  that  they 
cannot  disenthrone  the  Omnipotent  and  while 
God  reigns   the  outcast  angels   could  have  no 


268    The  Epic  of  Paradise  Lost 

wish  to  re-enter  heaven  where  they  would  be 
compelled  to  celebrate  His  throne  with  warbled 
hymns.  It  were  better  far  to  keep  by  them- 
selves, to  develop  the  resources  of  hell,  to  raise 
a  rival  kingdom,  and  to  dismiss  all  thought  of 
war.  But  Satan  had  no  thought  of  ceasing  his 
warfare  with  God,  and  at  his  instigationj^jeela^ 
bub  arose  to  propose  an  indirect  attack  on  God 
through  a  plot  against  man.  To  this  end  the 
fallen  angels  should  bend  all  their  powers  to 
learn  about  this  newly  created  man  and 
woman, 

"  And  where  their  weakness,  how  attempted  best, 
By  force  or  subtilty." 

**  who  shall  tempt  with  wand'ring  feet 

The  dark  unbottom'd  infinite  abyss," 

who  shall  avoid  the  strict  sentries  of  the  watch- 
ful angels,  and  accomplish  the  difficult  task, 
upon  which  the  last  hope  of  the  fallen  angels 
relies?  The  ground  for  Satan's  supremacy  in 
Pandemonium  is  clear,  for  he  does  not,  as  in 
L'Adamo,  and  Adam  in  Ballingschap,  send  a 
messenger  to  execute  this  important  mission  on 
.  earth,  but  first  in  courage,  as  first  in  power,  he 
goes  himself. 

Undaunted   by   the   perils   of  his   voyage  to 


God,  Satan,  Adam,  and  Eve    269 

the  world,  he  displays  -finesse  with  Sin  and'' 
Death  and-  diplomacy  with  Chaos  and  Old 
Night,  and  leaves  them  all  allies.  When  at  a 
loss  to  find  his  way,  he  decks  himself  in  the 
guise  of  a  reverent  young  angel  and  dares  to 
dupe  Uriel  on  his  watch  tower  in  the  sun.  JHis 
audacity  and  his  holy  mien  mislead  the  guard- 
ian angel,  who  is  faithful  but  not  omniscient,  ^\\v^ 
and  Satan's  very  plausible  request  to  see  God's 
handiwork  that  he  may  the  better  worship  the 
Creator  wins  for  him  the  needed  directions  for 
reaching   Paradise. 

After  Satan  has  gone  triumphantly  on  his 
way,  has  leaped  insolently  over  the  wall  of 
Paradise,  and  has  learned  from  the  lips  of  Adam 
and  Eve  the  means  of  their  undoing,  the  arch- 
fiend even  looks  about  for  more  angels  from 
whom  he  may  gain  details  that  may  be  useful 
for  his  plot  "  to  confound  the  race  of  mankind 
in  one  root."  So  far  he  seems  triumphant  in  ; '  "^  I 
his  strength,  and  might  well  deceive  not  only 
himself  but  the  readers  of  Paradise  Lost  into 
thinking  him  a  dauntless  hero;  but  it  is  all  a 
fine  bombastic  show,  he  carries  the  reason  for 
defeat  with  him. 

His  deception  of  Uriel  is  shortlived;  for  in 
prospect   of   Eden,    the   archfiend   falls    into    a 


270    The  Epic  of  Paradise  Lost 

contortion  of  dark  passions,  when  he  hurls  de- 
fiance at  the  sun  that  brings  him  remembrance 
of  that  state  whence  he  fell.  The  good  angel 
recognises  evil  negatively;  Uriel  realises  that 
no  angel  of  light  was  ever  thus  tempest  tossed 
with  conflicting  emotions. 
^  Thereupon  the  guardian  angel  speeds  on  his 
way  to  warn  the  angelic  guard  of  the  invasion 
of  Eden  by  one  of  that  rebel  crew,  and  later  a 
detachment  of  the  heavenly  host  search  out  the  ^ 
archfiend  in  the  shape  of  a  toad  squatting  at 
the  ear  of  Eve.  A  touch  of  Ithuriel's  wonder- 
working spear  uncloaks  the  evil  spirit.  Satan 
starts  up  with  a  bold  attempt  to  confront  the 
good  angel,  but  his  heart  sinks  within  him  be- 
fore the  awful  beauty  and  strength  of  holiness  j^ 
which  he  knows  now  that  he  has  lost,  and  that 
all  of  his  boasting  was  an  empty  vaunt. 

A  rebel  and  an  outcast  from  God,  bereft  of 
his  celestial  beauty,  he  still  had  clung  to  his 
former  titles  and  to  the  dignity  of  heaven. 
Though  doomed  to  become  the  father  of  all 
guile,  he  had  not  lost  at  once  all  of  his  noble 
heavenly  bearing,  and  he  at  first  took  more 
naturally  direct  methods  as  suited  to  his  past 
high  position;  slyer  methods  were  the  result  of 
his  situation.     He  was  resolved  to  win,  if  not 


God,  Satan,  Adam  and  Eve 

by  old  devices,  he  will  adopt  new;  but  he  di 
not  naturally  crawl. 

The  encounter  with  Ithuriel  and  Zephon  re- 
veals to  Satan  that  great  Lucifer  despite  a 
regal  port  can  be  no  longer  recognised  by  his 
former  subordinates  in  heaven.  Now  he  loses 
his  royal  air,  heaven's  scales  show  him  his 
doom;  never  more  can  he  meet  the  forces  of 
Qod  in  open  combat,  no  single  angel  of  light 
can  he  openly  face  again.  A  fugitive  from 
good,  crawling  is  his  only  course,  and  herein 
lies  his  defeat.  This  is  a  kind  of  defeat  that 
appeals  most  in  its  force  to  the  Anglo-Saxon 
love  of  open-minded,  fair  play.  Surely  no 
genuine  Englishman  is  likely  to  misunderstand 
Milton's  study  of  batan  Kere,  nor  to  think  him 
the  hero  of  Paradise  Lost, 

Both  from  his  speeches  and  his  behaviour  it 
is  possible  to  see  that  Satan's  course  is  con- 
tjnuoixsly:  downward  in  Paradise  Lost.  He 
degenerates  through  a  series  of  choices.  En^ 
dowed  with  fine  intellectual  powers,  he  has 
capacity  f oii,cIear  and  deep^rea^Qging ;  but  a 
study  of  his  many  brilliant  speeches  in  the  epic 

proves  that  it  was  his   rlnnTY|   fg  spp  f>1pf^r|y   prnnrl 

and  evil  and  to  pViohrp  t^p  pvi'l-     Created  with 
good  impulses,  it  is  now  his  curse  to  have  all 


1 


1 


2  7^    The  Epic  of  Paradise  Lost 

trains  of  thought  end  in  evil.  His  high  sense 
of  beauty  remains  with  him  to  the  bitter  end, , 
and  it  is  a  means  of  enhancing  his  suffering 
and  of  forcing  him  to  acknowledge  his  over- 
throw in  his  losing  contest  with  God;  for  he 
realises  in  the  ninth  book,  when  he  lifts  his 
impious  voice  in  derision  of  God,  that  hideous 
shapes  and  sights  unholy  are  his  only  heritage. 
7\L  Satan^s~Siie  intellectual  powers  are  displayed 
jHSl  ^^  ^^^  famous  apostrophe  to  the  sun.  He  un- 
iT  derstands  and  admits  with  perfect  frankness 
his  own  wrong-doing,  but  with  eyes  wide  open 
to  all  that  evil  means,  chooses  to  be  evil.  He 
realised  that  God  had  created  him,  given  him 
high  eminence,  and  loaded  him  with  benefits, 
"  yet  all  of  his  good,"  he  says,  "  proved  ill  in 
me." 

**  And  wrought  but  malice  ;  lifted  «p  so  high 
I  'sdeined  subjection,  and  thought  one  step  higher 
.  Would  set  me  highest,  and  in  a  moment  quit 

The  debt  immense  of  endless  gratitude 
So  burdensome,  still  paying,  still  to  owe  ; " 

In  his  rebellion  Satan  admits  that  God  de- 
served no  such  return  for  all  of  his  benefits. 
With  a  realisation  of  his  moral  weakness  he 
suggests  that  it  might  have  been  fortunate  if 
destiny  had  ordained  him  some  inferior  angel; 


God,  Satan,  Adam,  and  Eve   2  73 

but  he  reflects  that,  even  then,  he  might  have 

been  ambitious. 

*'    ...  but  other  powers  as  great 
Fell  not,  but  stand  unshaken, 


Hadst  thou  the  same  free  will  and  power  to  stand  ?  " 

Now  Satan  seems  very  near  to  penitence,  but 

there  comes  the  sad  twist  in  his  reasoning  that 

is  characteristic. 

"  Thou  hadst,  whom  hast  thou  then  or  what  to  accuse, 
But  Heaven's  free  love  dealt  equally  to  all  ? 
Be  then  his  love  accurs'd,  since  love  or  hate, 
To  me  alike,  it  deals  eternal  woe : " 

1 
An  outcast  from  divine  love  by  his  own  elec- 
tion, he  realises,  however,  that  this  choice  brings 
him  only  despair.  "  Which  way  I  fly  is  hell, 
myself  am  hell."  But  there  is  no  way  to  gain 
repentance  and  pardon  except  by  submission 
and  that  he  spurns  through  his  own  pride  and 
his  dread  of  shame  among  the  fallen  angels. 
Satan  reminds  himself  that  his  followers  rely 
upon  his  promise  to  subdue  the  Omnipotent; 
surrender  is  impossible.  On  weighing  all  these 
conditions    Satan   becomes   reckless. 

**  So  farewell  hope,  and  with  hope  farewell  fear, 
Farewell  remorse :  all  good  to  me  is  lost ; " 

He  knows  for  a  certainty  that  even  were  he 
again  in  heaven,  he  would  again  rebel.  . 

18  4 


2  74    The  Epic  of  Paradise  Lost 

But  Satan  did  not  mislead  himself  into  sup- 
posing that  he  had  any  feud  with  man.  He 
admits  with  perfect  magnanimity  that  it  is 
shameful  to  visit  his  hatred  of  God  upon  these 
innocent  victims,  for  he  has  no  reason  in  the 
world  to  wish  them  ill.  He  keeps  still  his  high 
taste,  for  he  is  sensitive  to  beauty.  Paradise 
is  enchantingly  lovely,  and  Adam  and  Eve  de- 
light him  with  their  beauty;  but  this  train  of 
thought  brings  to  his  mind  in  sharp  contrast 
the  memory  of  the  horrors  of  hell,  and  his  un- 
controlled resentment  flashes  up  and  from  it 
emerges  envy.  With  a  sneer  he  says  Adam 
and  Eve  when  brought  under  his  thraldom  may 
not  enjoy  hell  as  much  as  they  now  delight  in 
their  earthly  paradise,  but  let  them  thank  God 
for  the  gift  that  they  will  soon  receive,  for 
Satan  will  after  all  only  pass  on  the  Almighty's 
bounty  to  them.  Since  he  has  obligations  to 
his  followers  he  must  not  recede.  "  Public 
good  "  demands  that  he  should  set  up  his  king- 
dom on  earth,  thus  with  necessity,  the  tyrant's 
plea,  he  concludes  that  man  must  now  be  cor- 
rupted and  made  subject  to  the  kingdom  of 
darkness.  ."^^^^ 

Nor  does  Satan  make  his  evil  decision  once 
for  all;  but,  tempest-tossed,  he  continues  to  feel 


God,  Satan,  Adam,  and  Eve    275 

remorse   yield   to    revenge.  T!n   all    these   pro- 
cesses   of    thought,    the    starting-point    is    love 
of    beauty,    and    beauty    is    alwa3'^s    joined    by 
Milton  to  thoughts  of  God  and  heaven,  there-  q^<„jm4j 
fore  as   foe  to   God,    Satan   is   a   destroyer    of Jt 
beauty. 

When,  alter  his  ignoble  defeat  read  from 
heaven's  scales,  Satan  fled  from  Paradise,  he  was 
long  in  gathering  courage  for  the  second  at- 
tempt on  his  victims  in  Eden.  Now  no  longer 
so  confident,  he  creeps  back  to  Eden  at  night- 
fall; he  makes  his  way  under  the  wall  of  the 
garden  under  cover  of  a  mist  and  crawls  into 
the  mouth  of  a  serpent.  In  adopting  this  dis- 
guise Satan  admits  his  humiliation.  Like  an 
erect  angel  of  light  how  gladly  would  he  have 
paced  the  walks  of  Paradise,  as  he  explored  its 
beauties,  but  he  adds  sadly,  "  If  I  could  joy  in 
aught,"  and  he  continues,  mindful  of  the  dis- 
grace that  evil  has  brought: 

**  O  foul  descent  I  that  I,  who  erst  contended 
With  gods  to  sit  the  highest,  am  now  constrain'd  * 
Into  a  beast,  and  mixed  with  bestial  slime, 
This  essence  to  incarnate  and  imbrute, 
That  to  t)ie  height  of  deity  aspir'd  ; 

VBut  what  will  not  ambition  and  revenge 
Descend  t  o  ?    who  aspires  must  down  as  low 
As  high  be  soar'd," 
V 


276    The  Epic  of  Paradise  Lost 


(: 


"  Revenge,  at  first  though  sweet, 
Bitter  ere  long  back  on  itself  recoils : " 


He  is  not  untouched  by  the  loveliness  of  Eve, 
•wwhich  brings  to  him  fresh  wonder  every  time  he 
sees  her.  Now,  "  veiled  in  a  cloud  of  fragrance 
where  she  stood,"  her  graceful  innocence  over- 
awed his  malice  and  for  the  time  he  remained 
"  stupidly  good,"  but  here,  as  elsewhere,  it  is 
his  sad  lot  that  all  of  his  good  impulses  are 
merged  in  evil. 

He  reminds  himself  that  save  what  pleasure 
he  can  find  as  a  destroyer,  all  his  joy  is  lost. 
He  sets  about  the  execution  of  his  fell  design  to 
subjugate  the  human  race,  and  Eve  here  meets 
the  most  skilled  and  dangerous  tempter  of  all 
the  temptation  scenes  of  literature. 

He  first  arouses  her  wonder  by  his  serpentine 
grace  and  iridescent  colouring.  He  is  in  no 
hurry  to  execute  his  plot,  for  according  to  Mil- 
ton's view  of  this  scene,  the  power  of  hell  uses 
deliberation  and  exerts  itself  to  the  uttermost 
for  this  difficult  and  important  attack  on  God. 
At  length,  the  serpent  speaks,  lost  in  admira- 
tion of  Eve.  When  he  has  gained  her  atten- 
tion, he  insinuates  that  she  is  not  appreciated; 
she  should  be  adored,  a  goddess   among  gods 


/    I  » \         Wf  ""^        w  V  v\  '^ 


God,  Saran,  Adam,  and  Eve  277 


with  numberless  angels  In  her  train.  When 
Eve  has  overcome  her  amazement  sufficiently 
to  ask  how  a  serpent  can  speak,  he  explains 
that  far  away  in  the  garden  is  a  magical  tree 
whose  fruit  quickens  all  the  senses  and  reveals 
mysteries ;  of  this  he  has  eaten.  Eve  realises 
that  she  has  not  yet  explored  the  whole  of  the 
garden,  she  does  not  yet  know  all  of  the  trees 
of  Paradise.  When  Satan  offers  to  show  her, 
the  way,  she  goes  gladly  to  see  this  marvellous 
tree.  This  device  breaks  the  abruptness  of  the 
fall,  as,  for  instance,  it  is  given  in  Adam  in 
Ballings  chap.  After  a  walk  of  some  appre- 
ciable length,  they  approach  the  forbidden  tree  J'/otT' 
of  knowledge.  ^^^^J*iJ/ 

Now,  with  a  sudden  revulsion  of  feeling  irora'^^^^ Aj< 
anticipation  to  disappointment.  Eve  recognises/^  n 
the  interdicted  tree.     When  she  expresses  her 
regret  at  his  waste  of  time  in  conducting  her 
here   to  this   spot,   for   this   tree   is   not  to   be 
touched,  and  to  eat  the  fruit  will  bring  death, 
Satan    falls     into     an     attitude     of     indignant 
surprise.     After  a  dramatic  silence,  he  ignores 
Eve,  for  a  time,  and  addresses  the  tree,  extoll- 
ing its  virtues  and  deploring  the  false  charge 
against  it :  "  Death  indeed !     I  have  eaten  anS' 
live."     He    then    turns    to    Eve;    surprise,    in- 


infjr 


278    The  Epic  of  Paradise  Lost 

dignation,  solicitous  regard  for  her  welfare 
are  so  well  feigned  that  she  is  swept  on  by 
[forcible  words  to  the  conclusion  that  envy 
could  be  the  only  motive  for  God's  injunction. 
Satan  uses  this  a  fortiori  argument;  if  a  ser- 
pent is  made  to  speak  through  the  efficacy  of 
this  tree,  how  much  more  will  a  mortal  woman 
be  lifted  by  its  powers.  She  should  become  an 
angel.  God's  envy  is  not  so  strange,  since  she 
is  worthy  to  be  adored  in  heaven.  J 

Satan  employs  fewer  words  than  in  Adamus 
Eocsul,  but  he  wastes  no  power,  and  Eve  is  in- 
cited to  cast  off  God's  tyranny.  If  this  fruit 
brings  death,  it  may  be  a  death  to  be  desired, 
the  casting  off  of  mortal  for  immortal  dignity. 
*  When  Eve  took  and  ate  the  fruit  nature 
gave  signs  of  woe,  "  that  all  was  lost,  and  back 
to  the  thicket  slunk  the  guilty  serpent." 

Still  Satan,  though  creeping,  has  outward 
signs  of  victory  for  a  time.  Sin  and  Death 
have  prepared  a  triumphal  march  for  him  back 
to  hell,  and  have  made  ready  for  traffic  with 
the  world.  Eager  for  his  coming  they  advance 
to  meet  him.  Sending  on  these  grim  harbingers 
as  his  regents  on  earth,  Satan  speeds  on  to 
'Tpandemonium,  enters  the  council  in  disguise, 
mounts  his  throne,  and  flashes  out  his  dimin- 


God,  Satan,  Adam,  and  Eve  279 

ishing  glory  upon  his  astonished  subjects. 
They  receive  him  with  adulation.  The  arch- 
fiend announces  his  victory;  he  exults,  for  he 
is  persuaded  that  he  has  conquered  God,  and 
he  pits  against  the  thunderbolts  of  the  Al- 
mighty the  power  of  the  puny  apple.  He  jeers 
at  God's  folly  in.  devising  such  a  scheme  as 
a  forbidden  tree  which  has  brought  the  ruin 
of  his  handiworW  The  denizens  of  hell  are 
transported  with  joy  and  lift  their  voices  in 
applause,  when  their  triumph  is  turned  to  hu- 
miliation and  they  fall  headlong,  hissing  ser-^ 
pents,  and  view  this  change  with  horror.  They 
climb  a  tree  with  the  semblance  of  the  tree  of 
knowledge  and  their  mouths  are  filled  with 
ashes.  Satan's  only  applause  is  a  prolonged 
hiss,  his  only  satisfaction  turns  to  ashes  on  his 
lips.  To  be  a  corrupter  of  beauty,  a  foe  to 
love,  and  the  adversary  of  God  is  his  perpetual 
doom.  Indeed,  that  the  curse  of  evil  is  con-7 
tinuance  in  evil,  is  the  conclusion  of  Milton's  1 
masterly  characterisation  of  the  fallen  angel.  T^ 

Second  only  to  Milton's  power  in  the  por- 
trayal of  Satan  is  his  skill  in  the  delineation  of 
Eve.  As  we  have  seen  in  Milton's  plans  for  a 
tragedy,  there  was  little  opportunity  for  the 
development   of  the  personality   of  Adam   and 


28o    The  Epic  of  Paradise  Lost 

Eve,  for  they  were  not  presented  to  us  until 
after  their  fall,  and  we  do  not  see  them  under  the 
ordeal  of  their  temptation.  In  any  case  there 
are  two  fundamental  difficulties  in  the  delinea- 
tion of  these  characters  in  a  tragedy:  trans- 
formations from  perfect  innocence  to  opposition 
to  righteousness,  from  sullen  despair  to  peni- 
tent hope  requires  the  deliberate  method  of  the 
epic  or  the  novel ;  and  another  difficulty  is  found 
in  the  fact  that  if  Adam  and  Eve  must  seem  to 
us  all  men,  not  one  man  and  one  woman,  the 
epic  elevation  is  more  efficient  than  the  tragic 
vividness,   for   carrying   conviction. 

In  the  tragedies,  A  damns  Eccsul,  Adam  in 
Ballingschap,  and  VAdamo,  there  is  a  failure 
in  the  unity  of  the  motive  of  Adam  as  well  as 
in  a  consistent  characterisation  of  both  Adam 
and  Eve.  The  realism  of  these  works  is  not 
only  out  of  taste  but  at  the  same  time  prevents 
the  validity  of  the  conclusion,  for  Adam  and 
Eve  do  not  carry  conviction  to  our  minds  that 
they  are  prototypes  in  any  sense.  As  our  faith 
in  Adam  and  Eve  is  not  established,  we  reject 
the  author's  tacit  claims. 

Adam  and  Eve  are  better  developed  in  har- 
mony with  the  theme  in  Paradise  Lost,  for  Mil- 
ton never  loses  sight  of  the  notion  that  these 


■/ 


•K 


God,  Satan,  Adam,  and  Eve  281 


characters  should  clothe  the  fable  of  how  evil  / 
entered  the  world.  The  poet  is  convinced  thaP\/ 
sinless  people  could  not  suddenly  fall  into  /  \ 
error  without  some  tendency  to  deterioration  I 
in  their  hearts,  which  had  either  been  disre-  I 
garded  or  cherished.  Moreover,  some  pre-  / 
monition  of  their  vulnerability  to  the  shafts  of  [ 
Satan  should  be  given  for  the  sake  of  the  con-  I 
vincing  reasonableness  of  the  art.j;  In  Paradise  /  > 
Lost,  Adam  and  Eve  are  less  provincial  than 
the  works  of  Vondel  but  better  individualised 
and  play  better  their  part  in  an  epic  of  human 
life.  Milton  decided  that  for  this  end  they—" 
should  never_seem  bad,  but  at  the  worst  erring 
people,  not  for  a  Tnnmpnf  ^^Tlwor^^hy  of  respect,/ 
sympathy,  and  love. 

The  opinion   has   been  not  infrequently   ad- 
vanced that  Milton  was  unfriendly  to  Eve;  the 
reasons  have  been  adduced  that  the  poet's  own 
unhappy  domestic  experiences  had  distorted  his 
art,  and  that,  in  general,  Milton  displayed  a  j 
tendency  to  view  with  such  vividness  his   own  \ 
griefs  that  they  became  for  him  universal  hu-    [ 
man  experience.     A  careful  study  of  his  other    \ 
works  and  of  Milton's  life  goes  to  prove  that 
there   are  grounds   for  the   conclusion   that   to 
this    mistake,    Milton    was    by    nature    liable. 


282    The  Epic  of  Paradise  Lost 

There  is  also  no  doubt  that  if  this  defect  should 
appear  in  a  work  of  art,  it  is  too  significant  to 
be  justly  ignored,  for  an  author  should  rise 
above  personal  considerations  to  the  calmer 
and  serener  viewpoint  of  universal  humanity. 
It  is  well  however  for  us  to  remember  that  lit- 
erary gossip  is  not  literary  criticism.  So 
great  a  poet  as  Milton  might  find  correction 
for  his  defects  of  impulse  in  his  force  of 
thought:  every  charge  must  be  tested,  not  by 
reference  to  a  generalisation,  however  plausible, 
but  on  its  own  merits. 

There  is  a  difficulty  involved  in  the  plot  it- 
self of  Paradise  Lost  which  it  would  be  un- 
fortunate to  ascribe  to  Milton's  hypothetical 
prejudice  against  women.     In  all  the  stories  of 

V  man's  fall,  the  immediate  tempter  was  Eve. 
The  question  that  confronts  us  at  once  is, — 
how  could  the  first  woman   created  tempt  her 

,  husband  to  fall  and  yet  be  a  fair  specimen 
of  womanhood,  a  prototype?  This  perplexity 
was  not  of  Milton's  invention,  it  was  funda- 
mental in  the  story,  and  it  is  neither  just  to 
hold  the  poet  responsible  for  this  situation,  nor 
is  it  reasonable  to  demand  that  he  should  re- 
form it  altogether.  It  is  only  fair  to  examine 
critically  his  shaping  of  the  unalterable  situa- 


God,  Satan,  Adam,  and  Eve    283 

tion  into  literary  art  and  to  ask  the  question, 
— was  he  in  this  process  at  fault  through  un- 
friendliness to  Eve? 

I  do  not  think  that  such  a  charge  can  bei 
substantiated,  for  much  turning  over  of  other  J 
versions  of  man's  fall  must  compel  the  con-i 
elusion  that  Milton's  Eve  is  the  finest  char-f 
acterisation  of  them  all;  a  nobler,  more  lovable\ 
woman,  with  truer  instincts  and  higher  taste; 
a  far  more  universal  type  than  the  other  Eves 
of  art  and  story. 

Milton  has  created  an  Eve  divinely  fair  and7 
possessed  of  fatal  charm;  the  flowers  spring  to 
greet  her;  the  animals  seek  her  gracious  in- 
fluence; the  angels  delight  in  her  beauty,  even 
Satan  forgets  his  evil  plots,  lost  in  wonder  at 
her  loveliness,  and  Adam  adores  her  and  ques- 
tions whether  he  does  not  worship  her.  Worthy 
as  she  is  of  love,  does  she  take  unconsciously 
the  adulation  of  all,  or  has  it  bred  in  her  latent 
vanity?  J 

"  vVoman    fashion,    she   reveals   herself   in   her 
relation  to  Adam  her  husband.     She  is  by  na-\ 
ture  impulsive  and  generous.     She  had   fallen   j 
in  love  with  Adam  at  first  sight,  and  with  social  / 
tact  she  delights  to  lead  him  to  display  his  fine 


powers  of  mind.     She  Is   a  good  comrade,  by 


'i^rf'^fe 


284    The  Epic  of  Paradise  Lost 

no  means  unthoughtful  herself.  In  proof  of 
her  power  of  understanding  abstruse  subjects, 
Milton  takes  pains  to  state  that  when  the  angel 
Raphael  came  to  Eden  for  a  long  visit  to  dis- 
cuss with  Adam  and  Eve  the  affairs  of  heaven 
and  earth,  she  is  very  graciously  hospitable;  to 
his  high  discourse,  she  listens  attentively  for 
nearly  three  books,  and  then,  not  because  she 
was  tired,  nor  because  she  failed  to  comprehend 
his  condensed  treatises,  but  because  she  had  con- 
fidence that  Adam  would  report  to  her  all  the 
important  details,  she  rises  and  goes  to  tend 
her  flowers,  reflecting  how  much  better  after 
all  than  the  angel  Adam  could  talk. 

There  is  no  subjection  superimposed  upon 
her  in  Eden  from  without,  but  if  it  be  here,  it 
is  from  a  law  of  her  emotional  nature  and  eman- 
ates from  within.  There  is  a  note  of  triumph 
in  her  avowal  of  her  love  for  her  husband  and 
she  scorns  self-seeking  reservations.  Indeed 
she  is  proud  to  admit  to  him  that  neither 
breath  of  morn,  nor  charm  of  earliest  birds,  nor 
rising  sun,  nor  dew,  nor  fragrance  after  show- 
ers, nor  silent  night,  nor  moonlight,  nor  star- 
light "  without  thee  is  sweet." 

On  that  very  night  Satan  came  to  squat  at 
her  side  and  to  breathe  into  her  ear  an  evil  dream. 


God,  Satan,  Adam,  and  Eve    285 

Hitherto  Eve  had  seemed  without  defect,  but 
the  substance  of  the  dream  gives  on  this  point 
some  grave  cause  for  doubt;  for  how  could  Eve 
conceive  of  the  flattery  and  conceit  impHed  in 
her  vision  of  the  night?  Does  Milton  adopt 
the  notion  of  dreams  as  an  art  convention ; 
does  he  really  believe  that  both  God  and  Satan 
may  appear  to  mortals  in  dreams,  when  the 
will  is  off  guard ;  or  does  he  intend  to  imply  that 
the  material  for  the  dream  might  be  found  in  J^ 
Eve's  thoughts  and  that,  in  spite  of  her  ideal 
simplicity,  she  was  getting  a  little  spoiled? 
Upon  this  question  the  text  gives  no  help  be- 
yond that  suggested  by  Adam  that  the  dream 
was  a  fantastic  reproduction  of  disjointed  frag- 
ments of  their  evening  talk,  but  he  says: 

*'nor  can  I  like 
This  uncouth  dream,  of  evil  sprung  I  fear : 
Yet  evil  whence  ?    in  thee  can  harbour  none, 
Created  pure." 

He  feels  confident,  however,  that  she  is  free 
from   defect. 

**  Evil  into  mind  of  god  or  man 
May  come  and  go,  so  unapprov'd,  and  leave 
No  spot  or  blame  behind  ;  which  gives  me  hope 
That  what  in  sleep  thou  didst  abhor  to  dream, 
Waking  thou  never  wilt  consent  to  do." 

Whatever    Milton    exactly    intended,    he    cer- 


/ 


V 


286    The  Epic  of  I^aradise  Lost 

talnly  gained  definite  aijtistic  effect  by  the  epi- 
sode of  the  dream.  It  aids  the  dehberatlon  of 
the  method  of  the  epic,  and  prepares  our  minds 
for  the  f all^    jjvdt'H^^^  ~~ 

POn  the  morning  of  the  temptation,  the  dream 
again  recurs  to  our  mind.  In  her  determina- 
tion to  go  away  by  herself  among  the  flowers, 
Eve's  waywardness  Is  most  dramatically  por- 
trayed, and  the  scene  reveals  wider  possibilities 
In  both  Eve  and  Adam  than  we  have  seen  be- 
fore. The  conversation  Is  piquant  and  human, 
the  range  of  emotion  Interestingly  portrayed, 
but  Eve  Is  changed.  She  has  not  the  artless 
simplicity  of  the  woman  who  was  more  Inter- 
ested In  Adam's  personality  than  In  her  own, 
for  she  now  enjoys  wielding  her  power.  She  Is 
not  at  all  Ill-bred  In  her  manner,  she  expresses 
herself  still  with  a  pretty  deference,  but  she  ap- 
^  pears  bent  on  having  her  own  way  slmplv  from 
the  pleasure  of  watching  Its  effect  upon  Adam. 
The  scene  throughout  chronicles  a  bit  of  co- 
quetry^  our  minds  Instinctively  revert  to  the 
dream,  and,  like  the  witches  In  Macbeth,  It  puz- 
zles the  Interpreter.  Did  the  vanity  here 
originate  with  the  tempter,  or  was  It  latent  In 
[Eve.? 

The  plea  of  Satan  at  the  foot  of  the  tree  of 


-25^3?' 


Y^ 


God,  Satan,  Adam,  and  Eve    287 

knowledge  gives  further  ground  for  reflection. 
He  is  a  skilled  advocate,  he  knows  how  to  pre^ 
sent  his  plea,  he  looks  for  a  weak  point  in  Evg^x^  ^ij 
and  he  makes  an  appeal  to  her  16v  "of  self.  '^It  A^^^. 
is  further  significant  that  when  Eve  has  eaten  4^*^Y> 
the  fruit  and  gains,  as  she  believes,  all  know-  y^ 
ledge,  she  wonders  if  it  will  not  be  well  to  keep 
this  superiority  over  Adam.^    How  delightful  it "jl/ff^^ 
will  be  to   explain   to  his   ignorant  but   docilA      '^J^ 
mind  the  mysteries   of  life !     The  question   of  *   ^ 
whether  she  is  wise,  or  stupid,  is  not  here  the 
issue,   but   the   mental   attitude   is    significant,  f/  V> 
Pride    of    intellect,    brooding    consciousness    of  /\\' 
intellectual    superiority    is,    as    Milton    points 
out,    the    most    anti-social    and    ungracious    of 
traits.     There    is    no    doubt    that    Eve    falls 
from  vainglory^   _j 

While  she  is  balancing  in  her  mind  the  de- 
sirability of  keeping  her  advantage  over  Adam, 
she  suddenly  reflects  that  there  may  be  punish- 
ment for  her  disobedience. 

*'  .  .  .  if  God  have  seen     ^ 
And  death  ensue  ?  then  I  shall  be  no  more, 
And  Adam  wedded  to  another  Eve  " 

With  this  intolerable  thought  in  her  mind,  she 
resolves : 

*'  Adam  shall  share  with  me  in  bliss  or  woe : 
80  dear  I  love  him," 


/ 


288    The  Epic  of  Paradise  Lost 

And  she  does  not  seem  to  see  the  flaw  in  her 
conception  of  love.    ^^■^<^>-'-t 

Adam,  meanwhile,  is  not  lacking  in  responsi- 
bility, for  he  may  have  deprived  Eve  of  the 
highest  spur  of  a  love  built  on  truth, — he  has 
idolised  her.  The  defect  i^  both  Adam  and 
Eve  appeals  to  universal  sympathy,  because  it 
is  so  human.  At  the  time  of  Eve's  false  ex- 
altation at  the  foot  of  the  tree  of  knowledge, 
Adam  was  unhappily  counting  the  moments 
until  she  should  return  to  him.  Loath  as  he 
had  been  to  let  her  go  away  alone,  her  pride 
in  her  own  strength  had  been  a  delicate  matter 
to  resist,  and  her  implication  that  she  longed 
for  solitude  was  unanswerable.  But  now  that 
the  hour  for  her  return  drew  near,  he  wove  a 
garland  for  her  head  and  came*  eagerly  at  noon- 
time to  meet  her.  Near  the  tree  of  knowledge, 
he  descries  her;  with  flushed  cheeks  and  ex- 
cited manner  she  is  walking  swiftly  toward  him. 
While  still  at  a  distance,  she  begins  to  speak 
and  she  is  very  voluble.  She  has  news  for 
Adam:  the  forbidden  tree  is  not  death-giving, 
the  fruit  is  indeed  magical  and  he  must  forth- 
with eat  it  with  her. 

The  garland  falls  unheeded  from  Adam's 
nerveless    hand; — he    is     silent    with    dismay. 


God,  Satan,  Adam,  and  Eve    289 

"  Surely  some  one  has  deceived  you,"  he  ex- 
claims. Surely  it  would  be  impossible  for  Eve 
to  intend  to  do  evil.  Then  the  thought  of  the 
fatal  consequences  comes  to  him,  and  he  declares 
without  a  moment's  hesitation — 

"with  thee 
Certain  my  resolution  is  to  die : 

from  thy  state 
Mine  never  shall  be  parted,  bliss  or  woe." 

Adam  in  Milton's  version  of  the  fall  has  no  > 
struggle  between  love  and  duty,  he  sees  no  / 
duty  but  in  love.«»»  / 

Eve  exults  in  this  glorious  trial  of  exceeding 
love,  but  she  adds  an  apology  (^t  is  insincere 
in  view  of  her  avowed  intention  to  make  him 
share  her  lot  in  weal  or  woe;  she  now  says  that 
she  surely  could  not  wish  him  to  take  the  fruit, 
if  it  were  not  helpful,  but  she  knows  from  ex- 
perience that  it  is  beneficial.  Lost  in  thought 
Adam  seeks  excuses  for  Eve's  disobedience  of 
the  divine  decree,  and  tries  to  take  her  point 
of  view.  But  she  hastens  him  on  to  his  doom, 
from  her  own  experience  she  recommends  the 
marvellous  efficacy  of  the  fruit,  and  Adam  loses 
his  clearness  of  thought.  He  reasons,  had  not 
the  serpent  already  defiled  the  tree,  and  under 


290    The  Epic  of  Paradise  Lost 

these  circumstances  God  may  no  longer  desire 
to  reserve  the  fruit?  If  this  be  so  there  are 
strong  reasons  for  desiring  to  taste  the  apple 
and  to  become  gods  or  demi-gods.  Nor  can  he 
believe  that  God  will  destroy  his  creatures ;  he 
would  thus  lose  his  reputation  for  wisdom, 
and  Satan  would  exult.  At  all  events  with  Eve 
Adam  will  live  or  die.  Without  delay ;  he  takes 
the  forbidden  fruit. 

After  Adam  and  Eve  have  eaten  the  forbid- 
den fruit,  they  feel  exalted  above  all  law  and 
are  as  gods.  They  do  not  notice  nature's  signs 
of  woe  but  wish  that  there  had  been  ten  for- 
bidden trees   instead  of   one. 

^P  innocence,  that  as  a  veil 

Had  shadowed  them  from  knowing  ill,  was  gone. 

The  reaction  swiftly  follows,  bad  passions  well 
up  in  their  hearts. 

anger,  hate, 
Mistrust,  suspicion,  discord  and  shook  sore 
Their  inward  state  of  mind. 

The  quarrel  that  follows  is  less  violent  and  more 
truly  tragic,  in  the  dignity  of  their  misery, 
than  the  contention,  with  comedy  elements, 
given  in  the  seventeenth-century  dramas.  This 
difference  arises  from  two  sources :  the  reader 
has  a  clearer  comprehension  of  the  characters. 


God,  Satan,  Adam,  and  Eve    291 

from  the  variety  of  their  conversation,  and 
from  the  dehberation  gained  from  the  number 
of  episodes;  both  Adam  and  Eve  are  more 
clearly  defined  characters  from  the  standpoint 
of  the  plot  in  Milton's  epic,  but  they  are  less 
realistic  than  in  the  tragedies  considered  in  the 
foregoing  essays. 

After  the  fall  in  Paradise  Lost  there  is  a? 
change  in  both  Adam  and  Eve;  for  Eve  loses 
every  touch  of  vanity,  and  Adam  for  a  time 
shows  an  extreme  revulsion  of  feeling  from 
his  idolatry  of  Eve.  The  adjustment  after 
this  shock  to  their  relations  is  slow  and  tragic.j 
Adam  exclaims  if  Eve  had  only  listened  to  his 
warnings  and  not  wandered  away  seeking  ad- 
miration even  of  a  serpent,  then  they  might 
still  be  happy.  Eve  thinks  this  is  severe;  fate 
decided  all,  therefore  she  might  have  fallen 
quite  as  readily  with  Adam  near.  She  then 
asks  some  rather  inconsistent  questions:  Was 
she  never  to  move  from  his  side?  Why  had  he 
not  been  firm  and  insisted  upon  her  remaining  ? 
Evidently  she  does  not  yet  assume  frankly  her 
guilt. 

Adam,  who  has  shown  before  the  fall  con-\ 
spicuous  magnanimity  and  self-forgetfulness, 
now  becomes   pettily   personal   and   quotes   his 


292     The  Epic  of  Paradise  Lost 

own  generosity,  but  after  all  with  some  meas- 
ure of  justice: 

**  la  this  the  love,  is  this  the  recompense 
Of  mine  to  thee,  ingrateful  Eve  !  express'd 
Immutable  when  thou  wert  lost,  not  I, 
Who  might  have  liv'd  and  joy'd  immortal  bliss 
Yet  willingly  chose  rather  death  with  thee  ? 
And  am  I  now  upbraided,  as  the  cause 
Of  thy  transgressing?" 

He  drives  home  the  conclusion,  it  was  her  own 
fault,  he  had  warned  her  of  her  danger,  but  of 
course  she  had  free  will  to  act.  He  blames  him- 
self that  he  had  so  much  admired  her,  and  he 
closes  with  a  wholesale  denunciation  of  woman, 
which  is  more  reasonable  here  than  in  the  other 
versions  of  the  story,  as  it  has  been  prepared 
for  by  his  over-exaltation  of  Eve ;  both  extremes 
j^ere  alike  dangerous  and  unjust. 

But  why  should  this  denunciation  be  de- 
clared to  voice  the  author's  own  personal  view.'* 
There  is  no  question  about  the  personal  basis 
of  the  divorce  pamphlets,  nor  the  soreness  of 
wounded  feeling  that  expresses  its  anguish  in 
strange  cries,  but  what  bearing  have  these  facts 
precisely  upon  Paradise  Lost  ?  Shall  we  then 
conclude  that  after  his  unhappy  marriage  with 
Mary  Powell,  Milton  became  a  woman  hater 
and  lost  no  opportunity  of  expressing  his  de- 


God,  Satan,  Adam,  and  Eve    293 

testation  of  at  least  one  half  of  the  human 
race?  That  conclusion  is  easy,  but  is  it 
scholarly?  I  think  not.  The  question  here  is 
not  one  of  biographical  criticism  but  of  sterner 
art  values.  In  Paradise  Lost  Eve  has  not 
been,  up  to  this  point,  unsympathetically  con- 
ceived by  Milton.  Adam  has  worshipped  Eve 
and  he  now  degrades  her ;  the  hope  must  be  that 
out  of  the  two  extremes  will  emerge  the  happier 
mean  of  loving  her  as  human.  Adam  does  not 
here  speak  out  of  character,  nor  does  Milton 
shield  him  from  blame  for  his  harshness  to  Eve. 
Moreover,  how  is  it  possible  that  Eve's  abject 
misery  should  sadden  the  reader,  unless  there 
were  pity  in  the  heart  of  the  composer  of  those 
lines  ? 

What  is  more,  before  Milton's  unhappy  do- 
mestic experiences,  he  conceived  the  idea  in 
his  drafts  for  tragedy  that  Adam  would  nat- 
urally have  a  violent  revulsion  of  feehng  after 
his  fall,  that  he  would  be  harsh  in  his  denuncia- 
tion of  Eve,  and  loud  in  his  own  self -justi- 
fication, and  the  youthful  Milton  decided  to 
introduce  an  angel  of  justice  who  should  upbraid 
Adam  for  his  persistent  pride  and  for  his  un- 
fairness to  Eve,  and  this  angel  of  justice  should 
lead  him  to  be  gentle  and  reasonable  and  to  ac- 


294    The  Epic  of  Paradise  Lost 

cept  nobly  his  share  of  the  blame.  In  Paradise 
Lost  Adam's  cynicism  is  reproved  both  by  God 
and  later  by  Michael.  Why  then  do  these 
words  of  denunciation  of  woman  seem  to  be 
more  characteristic  of  Milton  as  a  poet  than 
those  lines  upon  Eve's  sweetness  and  loveliness.? 
Euripides  and  Shakespeare  have  also  suffered 
from  this  form  of  unrestrained  biographical 
criticism.  I  must  confess  great  distaste  to 
criticism  that  begins  thus  at  the  wrong  end; 
for  it  is  not  important  to  note  what  the  student 
finds  in  biography  that  can  be  transported  bod- 
ily into  the  art  of  an  author,  but  it  is  signifi- ' 
cant  to  discover  what  he  finds  in  the  literary 
art  that  is  in  harmony  with  biographical  fact. 
Milton  had  not  only  a  very  striking  personality, 
but  he  was  well  known  in  his  lifetime  and  had 
many  enemies,  and  from  the  first  year  of  the 
appearance  of  his  epic,  until  the  present  day, 
JVIilton's  personality  has  loomed  as  the  essential 
fact  in  Paradise  Lost.  It  has  followed  as  a 
natural  consequence  that  if  one  did  not  like  the 
personality  of  Milton,  or  what  somebody  said 
was  his  personality,  he  did  not  like  Paradise 
Lost;  but  the  power  both  of  Milton's  char- 
acter and  of  his  work  has  been  admitted. 

In  Paradise  Lost,  I  find  proofs  of  a  larger 


God,  Satan,  Adam,  and  Eve    295 

Milton  than  in  the  Jeremiad  of  the  Divorce 
Pamphlets,  Nor  do  I  beheve  that  it  is  possi- 
ble for  a  man  to  sum  up  the  whole  world  in  his 
ego  and  be  at  the  same  moment  a  genius  of 
universal  power.  It  is  enough  for  us  to  admit 
that  Milton  was  sometimes  like  the  writer  of 
those  pamphlets,  and  in  greater  moments  rose 
to  the  creation  of  Paradise  Lost,  I  should  not 
call  the  two  Miltons  inconsistent  but  different. 
Who  would  judge  his  dearest  friend's  character 
at  the  moment  that  his  sensibilities  were  sting- 
ing from  injustice? — and  least  of  all  should  one 
judge  a  poet's  character  at  that  crisis. 

But  to  return  to  Adam's  denunciation  of  Eve. 
In  Paradise  Lost,  we  have  a  gain  over  other  ac- 
counts of  the  fall,  for  when  Adam  is  upbraided 
by  God  for  his  sin,  there  is  a  revival  in  Adam 
of  the  past  habit  of  magnanimity;  he  does  not 
bear  witness  to  God  against  Eve  without  a 
struggle;  he  says:  "^  « 

**     ...  in  evil  strait  this  day  I  stand 
Before  my  Judge,  either  to  undergo 
Myself  the  total  crime,  or  to  accuse 
My  other  self,  the  partner  of  my  life ; 
Whose  failing,  while  her  faith  to  me  remains, 
I  should  conceal,  and  not  expose  to  blame 
By  my  complaint ; " 


296    The  Epic  of  Paradise  Lost 

The  sense  of  his  own  injury  conquers  and  he 
continues  indignantly: 

**  This  woman,  whom  thou  mad'st  to  be  my  help, 
And  gav'st  me  as  thy  perfect  gift,  so  good, 
So  fit,  so  acceptable,  so  divine, 
That  from  her  hand  I  could  suspect  no  ill, 
And  what  she  did,^  whatever  in  itself, 
Her  doing  seem'd  to  justify  the  deed  ; 
She  gave  me  of  the  tree,  and  I  did  eat." 

But  the  God  of  love  does  not  accept  this  plea; 
"  was  she  thy  God  ? "  he  asks — and  Adam 
stands  convicted  on  his  own  defence.  He  had 
lacked  the  high  truth  of  the  greatest  love. 

After  the  judgment  is  pronounced  by  God, 
there  follows  a  period  of  remorse  without  re- 
pentance, and  Adam  is  very  harsh  in  his  resent- 
ment toward  Eve.  He  calls  her  a  bad  woman, 
a  serpent,  the  cause  of  all  his  misery,  and  Eve 
reaches  the  climax  of  her  suffering.  But  it 
is  remedial,  for  all  thought  of  self  dies,  and  we 
■peee  the  true  woman  purified  from  the  defect  that 
too  great  adulation  had  fostered.  The  scene  is 
painful  to  read  when  she  crawls  to  Adam's  feet 
and  begs  for  pity.  She  avows  her  sin  against 
God  and  him,  and  prays  eagerly  that  all  punish- 
ment may  fall  upon  her.  As  she  can  never  hope 
to  regain  Adam's  affection,  she  feels  that 
through  loss  of  love  there  is  nothing  in  life  and 


God,  Satan,  Adam,  and  Eve    297 

she  longs  for  death.  Adam  is  touched,  his 
old-time  gentleness  and  generosity  return,  and 
he  vies  with  Eve  in  self-sacrifice.  He  declares 
that  upon  his  shoulders  only  shall  the  burden 
of  sin  fall,  and,  to  comfort  her,  he  insists  that 
matters  are  not  past  hope.  Out  of  remorse, 
now  comes  true  repentance,  and  the  inner  harm- 
ony of  life  returns. 

When  the  penitent  prayers  are  borne  to 
God's  throne,  Michael  is  sent  down  with  a  re- 
tinue of  angels  to  announce  God's  commands 
to  the  dwellers  in  Paradise.  Because  they  are 
penitent,  death  shall  be  long  delayed,  salva- 
tion through  Christ  will  insure  them  hereafter 
a  home  in  heaven,  but  they  must  forthwith  de- 
part from  the  garden  of  Eden.  At  the  thought 
of  Paradise  lost,  Adam  is  awestruck,  but  he 
answers  the  angel  with  manly  courage: 

**  .  .  .  gently  hast  thou  told 
Thy  message,  which  might  else  in  telling  -v^ound, 
And  in  performing  end  us  ;  '■ 

*"With  a  woman's  natural  love  of  home.  Eve 
laments  her  bridal  bower,  her  beloved  walks, 
and  her  flowers — and  such  flowers  can  never 
grow  out  of  Paradise.  Adam  grieves  to  leave 
the  places  so  often  hallowed  by  God's  presence; 
but  Michael  comforts  them  with  the  assurances 


298    The  Epic  of  Paradise  Lost 

that  God  goes  with  them  and  that  with  one  an- 
other all  places   are  alike  home.  , 

Adam  is  shown  grounds  for  faith  and  hope 
for  his  future  descendants  in  a  series  of  visions 
of  man's  life  until  Christ's  shall  come.  Mean- 
while Eve  has  a  fair  dream  that  joins  her  in 
experience  with  the  Virgin  Mary,  and  she  too 
ponders  upon  Christ's  divinity  deep  in  her 
heart;  and  both  Adam  and  Eve  become  full  of 
hope  and  quiet  confidence.  The  angelic  guard 
now  closes  about  them  and  they  are  escorted  to 
the  gate  of  Paradise.  Like  pioneers,  of  high 
resolve,  they  go  to  prove  their  souls,  and,  wiser 
than  in  their  days  of  untried  strength,  they  set 
forth  attended  with  the  respect  and  confidence 
of  God,   angels,   and   reader. 

Milton  has  created  a  consistent  psychology 
for  these  two  actors  in  a  profoundly  interest- 
'*<»  ing  human  drama.  This  work  does  not  pre- 
sent the  distorted  view  of  a  petty  egotist,  but 
lays  hold  of  universal  human  experience.  Eve 
**is  no  monster,  but  a  sweet  though  erring  wo-^ 
man,  who  as  eagerly  repents  as  she  impulsively 
sins.  Purified  by  her  sorrows,  her  case  is  not 
hopeless,  she  may  yet  attain  beauty  for  ashes. 

Paradise  Lost  is  not  so  much  universal  be- 
cause it  is  great,  as  we  are  often  told,  as  it  is 


God,  Satan,  Adam,  and  Eve   299 

great  because  of  its  hold  upon  the  uni- 
versal human  heart,  and  it  shadows  forth  for 
the  reader  the  relation  of  man's  emotions  to 
the  epic  background  of  mystery.  The  quest 
of  the  lost  ideal  of  an  earthly  Paradise  is  not 
alone  the  heritage  of  the  poet,  but  is  a  latent 
romance  of  most  men.  To  this  longing  of  hu- 
manity Milton  speaks,  and  if  we  throw  aside 
hearsay  and  listen  sympathetically  to  the  poet, 
his  heralded  severity  melts  in  benignity.  In 
our  next  essay,  we  shall  note  the  touches  of 
personal  confession  in  Paradise  Lost. 


xn 

/^  THE  EPIC  SOCJRCE  OF  THE  LYRICS 

IN  Paradise  Lost,  there  are  frequent  bursts 
into  pure  lyric  poetry  and  the  examination 
/of  the  source  of  these  lyric  strains  and  of  their 
/  relation  to  the  epic  opens  to  the  reader  a  train 
of   thought   of   importance   for   a   sympathetic 
appreciation  of  Milton  both  as  a  man  and  a 
poet. 

The  delicately  organised  mind  of  a  poet  seeks 
beneath  the  outward  show  of  life  for  its  deeper 
significance.  From  this  seerhke  tendency  of 
the  poet  arises  an  insistence  upon  contrasting 
the  imperfect  reality  with  his  ideal.  His 
spiritual  perception  of  Hfe's  possibilities  brings 
about  within  him  a  struggle  of  the  ideal  beauty 
of  his  inner  vision  with  the  spectacle  of  the 
existing  imperfections  of  life.  The  poet's  be- 
lief that  ideal  beauty  is  attainable  by  humanity, 
and  his  sorrow  over  the  failures  of  the  quest 
most  often  and  most  deeply  inspire  the  lyric: 
so  it  comes  about  that  the  spoiling  of  the  lovely 
300 


Epic  Source  of  the  Lyrics     301 

garden  of  Eden  by  the  entrance  of  sin  is  a 
lyric  theme,  and  the  lament  of  Adam  and  Eve 
over  their  lost  Paradise  has  become  a  heritage 
of  poets.  Modern  poets  do  not,  as  a  rule,  trace 
back  their  inherited  impressions  to  their  root 
but  this  Milton  does  with  amazing  thorough-  ^ ; 
ness ;  for  in  Paradise  Lost  Milton  struck  the  / 
source  of  all  lyric. 

No  poet  has  displayed  so  clearly  before  our   ^ 
eyes  the  pristine  beauty  of  life,  nor  has  shown 
with   greater   force   the   pathos   of   lost   ideals,   ;' 
nor  has   sounded  more  inspiringly  the  appeal    I 
to  mankind  to  return  to  Eden.^     He  has  con- 
vinced his  reader  that  there  was  involved  in  the 
fall  of  Adam  and  Eve  more  than  their  individ- 
ual happiness.     Their  joys  and  sorrows  chron- 
icle  universal  human   experience,   and   for  this 
reason,  the  lyric  motive  is  lifted  above  the  per- 
sonal joy  of  Adam  and  Eve  in  the  fresh  morn- 
ing of  the  world,  or  above  their  personal  grief 
for  their  ruined  Paradise,  to  the  greatest  and 

*  The  train  of  thought  in  this  essay  has  nothing  to  do 
with  the  literal  acceptation  of  the  story  of  Adam  and 
Eve.  The  essay  does  not  concern  itself  with  the  thought 
that  the  human  race  has  tended  upward  since  the  days 
of  the  troglodyte  and  before.  Pristine  is  a  term  employed 
here  only  in  the  sense  of  the  fresh  unspoiled  vision  of 
the  ideal,  and  that  the  story  of  Eden  typifies. 


302    The  Epic  of  Paradise  Lost 

most  universal  of  themes,  that  of  life's  ideal. 

The  story  brings  to  the  poet  confidence  in 
his  own  inner  vision  and  revives  his  longing 
for  its  realisation.  While  Milton's  sorrow  for 
the  loss  of  Eden  finds  expression  in  the  lyric 
lines,  the  scope  of  the  epic  merges  them  in 
its  sweeping  onflow.  Indeed  the  movement  in 
Paradise  Lost  is  from  the  epic  to  the  lyric,  and 
the  lyric  swiftly  vibrates  to  the  epic. 

As  Milton's  theme  of  man's  pristine  perfec- 
tion supplies  the  imaginative  basis  for  idealism,, 
it  gives  not  only  the  dynamic  centre  for  the 
lyric  strains  in  Paradise  Lost  but  to  all  poets, 
whether  influenced  by  Milton  or  not.  But  the 
power  of  his  genius  has  been  far-reaching,  and 
the  nature  of  a  poet's  or  a  prophet's  influence 
in  other  lands  throws  light  upon  what  qualities 
may  be  forgotten  at  home. 

On  examination  of  the  many  lyric  frag- 
ments in  England's  greatest  epic,  the  revelation 
comes,  with  the  force  of  a  surprise,  that  Mil- 
ton's influence  has  been  both  romantic  and  lyri- 
cal, not  only  from  L^ Allegro  and  II  Penseroso 
but  most  of  all  from  Paradise  Lost, 

In  the  eighteenth  century,  when  the  poems 
of  Milton  were  translated  into  French  and 
German,  they  aroused  unusual  enthusiasm  for 


Epic  Source  of  the  Lyrics     303 

their  presentation  of  the  dignity  of  man  and 
for  the  freshness  of  their  descriptions  of  nature. 

In  fact,  Milton  appealed  to  pre-revolution- 
ary  F'-ance  as  a  romantic  poet,  championing 
the  dignity  and  the  high  destiny  of  man  who 
was  born  to  be  the  friend  of  God  and  of  the 
angels.  The  same  type  of  mind  that  after- 
wards turned  to  Rousseau  as  a  liberator  and  to 
St.  Pierre  as  an  interpreter  of  an  earthly 
Paradise  found  in  Milton  a  thinker  opposed 
to  artificial  restraints,  who  saw  clearly  man's 
place  in  the  scheme  of  the  universe,  and  sang 
of  the  intimate  relation  of  man  and  of  na-^' 
ture,  and  of  the  unspoiled  primitive  man  in 
Eden.  Everywhere  the  minds  wearied  with 
trivialties  of  form  found  Milton  abounding  in 
sentiment  for  nature,  in  high  seriousness,  and 
in  respect  for  his  own  emotions,  and  confidence 
in  their  expression. 

It  may  be  doubted  whether  Milton's  own 
countrymen,  without  careful  deliberation,  would 
turn  to  the  author  of  Paradise  Lost  first  of 
all  as  a  poet  of  democracy,  or  as  a  poet  of 
nature;  Walt  Whitman  and  Swinburne,  Cole- 
ridge and  Wordsworth  rise  readily  to  the  mind 
of  the  English  reader  to-day  for  these  roles, 
and  was  England  ever  without  her  poet  of  na- 


304    The  Epic  of  Paradise  Lost 

ture  and  of  liberty  ?  The  splendour  of  the  Em- 
pyrean, the  horrors  of  hell,  or  the  dramatic 
figure  of  Satan,  impress  most  vividly  the  aver- 
age English  reader  of  Paradise  Lost, 

Born  to  the  heritage  of  Chaucer,  Spenser, 
and  Shakespeare,  the  English  people  uncon- 
sciously demand  of  their  great  poets  a  strong 
grasp  upon  nature.  From  the  classical  tradi- 
tion that  held  England  for  a  brief  space  only, 
and  developed  a  prose,  rather  than  domin- 
ated successfully  poetry,  the  reaction  came 
so  quickly  and  completely  that  the  personal 
enthusiasm  for  nature  may  be  claimed  as 
an  unbroken  tradition,  practically,  in  Eng- 
lish poetry.  Though  Cowper,  Young,  Gray, 
Wordsworth,  and  Coleridge  are  among  the 
many  who  have  seen  nature  under  Milton's 
guidance,  it  is  not  strange  that  the  English 
people,  as  a  whole,  with  the  magnificent  struc- 
ture of  the  great  epic  before  them,  have  cen- 
tred their  attention  upon  the  epical  or  the 
dramatic,  the  theological  or  the  philosophical, 
the  biblical  or  the  classical  problems,  that  pre- 
sented new  questions  for  literary  discussion. 

In  order  to  understand  the  interest  taken  in 
the  eighteenth  century  by  German  and  French 
readers  of  Paradise  Lost,  one  must  consider  the 


Epic  Source  of  the  Lyrics      305 

forces  at  work.  About  1715,  there  came  a  re- 
action from  England  upon  France  through 
Holland.  Five  years  later,  Lamotte-Houdart 
in  his  protest  against  the  formalism  of  Boileau 
directed  the  line  of  attack.  Voltaire,  in  his 
essay  upon  Paradise  Lost,  written  while  he  was 
in  England,  had  extolled  the  genius  of  Milton ; 
Voltaire  had  also  made  adaptations  of  Shake- 
speare's plays,  and  while  seeking  to  improve  the 
uncouth  Englishmen  had  caught  the  divine 
ardour  for  naturalism  and  had  copied  sufficient 
innovations  of  classical  laws  to  justify  a  liter- 
ary revolution.  Though  the  intellectual  king 
of  his  day,  he  could  not  prevent  his  radicalism 
from  becoming  the  conservatism  of  the  follow- 
ing decade. 

The  reaction  from  the  artificiality  of  a 
school,  discussing  forms  rather  than  creating 
thoughts,  brought  with  it  an  insistence  upon 
a  man's  individuality,  upon  the  seriousness  of 
living,  of  feeling  for  nature,  and  of  interest 
in  one's  own  feelings.  The  result  was  essen- 
tially a  lyric  influence,  whether  expressed  or 
implied.  It  was  true  enough  that  Shake- 
speare appealed  not  so  much  as  an  author,  as 
the  embodiment  of  a  movement  for  liberty  of 
self-expression.     Letourneur   declared  that  the 


3o6    The  Epic  of  Paradise  Lost 

•  Frenchmen,  bound  by  rules,  had  lost  the  power 
of  being  themselves,  and  he  advised  an  emula- 
tion of  English  literary  ideals.  At  this  time, 
English  authors  were  widely  translated  and 
read,  in  fact,  Shakespeare,  Addison,  Thomson, 
Gray,  Young,  Hervey,  Macpherson,  and  Milton 
joined  the  forces  in  France  against  artificial- 
ity and  hastened  the  transition  from  Boileau 
to  Chateaubriand,  from  the  classic  to  the  roman- 
tic domination. 

Meanwhile  the  influence  of  Shakespeare  and 
of  Milton  was  a  disturbing  power  in  Germany; 
but  the  movement  was  less  significant  than  in 
France,  where  the  insistence  upon  self-expres- 
sion passed  into  politics  and  became  a  revolution. 
The  day  came,  indeed,  when  a  performance 
of  Julius  CcBsar  aroused  Paris  to  open  re- 
volt from  tyranny;  but  in  Gerjpany,  wise 
rulers  foresaw  the  danger  of  revolution  and 
compromised  with  the  growing  spirit  of  free- 
dom. Therefore  the  romantic  movement  did 
not  there  accompany  nor  inspire  a  revolution; 
but  it  remained  a  literary  movement,  only,  and 
the  war  a  war  of  words  between  Bodmer, 
Breitinger,  and  Gottsched  and  their  disciples. 
However,  the  romantic  school  aided  by  Addi- 
son dominated,  and  here  as. in  France  the  dig- 


Epic  Source  of  the  Lyrics      307 

nity  of  man  and  a  sentiment  for  nature  were 
the  ruling  ideals. 

Milton's  influence  in  Germany  and  France,  it 
IS  evident,  was  not  only  romantic,  but  his  ap- 
peal was,  in  the  last  analysis,  JaxgeJy  1yrir,a.1 ; 
for  he  helped  to  inspire  the  tendency  of  self- 
expression.  This  view  of  Milton  must  again 
surprise  the  average  English  reader,  who  turns 
to  Paradise  Lost  neither  for  nature  poetry,  nor 
for  a  lyrical  influence,  but  simply  accepts  the 
work  as  the  noblest  epic  of  his  mother  tongue. 
But  it  would  not  surprise  the  writers  of  Eng- 
lish poetry  from  Milton's  day  to  our  own; 
for  what  lyric  writer  has  not  felt  the  spell  of 
the  master  hand  and  not  sought  to  catch 
his  strains,  nor  has  not  seen  that  "  star  that 
Milton's   soul   for   Shelley  Hghted  "  ? 

A  study  of  Paradise  Lost  and  of  Milton's 
prose  works  reveals  the  grounds  upon  which 
this  eighteenth-century  view  of  Milton  is  jus- 
tified, and  throws  light  upon  his  inevitable  in- 
fluence upon  English  lyric  poets.  Milton's 
lyrical  influence  takes  its  source  in  his  concep-^ 
tion  of  nature  as  the  manifestation  of  God. 
We  are  often  told  that  Milton  believed  in  a 
limited,  definite  universe;  that  he  soared,  in 
imagination,  to  the  blue  empyrean,  thence,  look- 


3o8     The  Epic  of  Paradise  Lost 

ing  down  upon  the  vast  expanse  of  the  universe, 
saw  all  things  marked  out  clearly  below  him, 
and  with  unquestioning  confidence  set  the 
boundaries  of  the  world.  This  idea  of  Milton's 
scheme  of  the  universe  arises  from  a  misunder- 
standing of  his  art.  The  passage  most  often 
quoted  to  prove  Milton's  belief  in  a  limited  uni- 
verse is  from  the  eighth  book  of  Paradise  Lost, 
when  the  Son  of  God,  upheld  by  wings  of  cheru- 
bim, rode  forth  in  paternal  glory  into  chaos, 
followed  by  the  stately  train  of  angels  to  be- 
hold the  wonders  of  his  might. 

Then  stayed  the  fervid  wheels,  and  in  his  hand 
He  took  the  golden  compasses 

One  foot  he  centered,  and  the  other  turned 
Round  through  the  vast  profundity  obscure 
And  said,  "Thus  far  extend,  thus  far  thy  bounds, 
This  be  thy  just  circumference,  O  World." 

(Book  VII,  224-231.) 

The  definite  effect  of  this  passage  it  is  as- 
serted is  enhanced  by  the  details  that  follow. 
The  world  is  hung  from  heaven,  from  which  it 
is  distant  by  the  length  of  its  own  radius. 
The  portion  of  space  embraced  by  the  world 
consists  of  ten  concentric  spheres  moving 
about  the  fixed  earth;  the  first  is  that  of  the 


Epic  Source  of  the  Lyrics     309 

moon,  the  second  is  that  of  Mercury,  the  third, 
of  Venus,  the  fourth,  of  the  sun,  the  fifth,  of 
Mars,  the  sixth,  of  Jupiter,  the  seventh,  of 
Saturn,  the  eighth,  of  the  fixed  stars,  the  ninth, 
of  the  crystalline  sphere,  and  the  tenth,  of  the 
Primum  Mobile.  Above  this  universe,  is  the 
empyrean,  or  heaven,  and  around  is  chaos, 
where  elements  are  violently  combining  with 
their  aflSnities,  or  meeting  in  vehement  opposi- 
tion those  for  which  they  have  no  valence.  Be- 
low, at  the  distance  of  once  and  a  half  the 
diameter  of  the  world  from  heaven's  gate,  are 
the  gates  of  hell.  Upon  this  definite  scheme 
of  the  universe  with  its  apparent  accurate 
measurements,  emphasis  has  been  thrown,  and 
the  conclusions  have  been  drawn  that  Milton 
had  Homer's  attitude  toward  nature,  that 
sense  of  ease  and  at-homeness  that  precludes 
all  mystery,  and  that  he  had  adopted  in  Para- 
dise Lost  the  Ptolemaic  system.  There  are 
reasons  for  thinking  that  this  is  not  true. 

When  Milton  wrote  his  Paradise  Lost,  New- 
ton had  not  yet  found  his  audience,  and  the 
poet  reveals  that  he  is  not  an  expert  scientist, 
but  that  he  has  the  judgment  of  the  intelligent 
men  of  his  day.  Indeed  he  is  b(|pmd  to  no  sys- 
tem.    One  may  easily  see  his  open-mindedness 


3IO    The  Epic  of  Paradise  Lost 

by  comparing  the  work  of  Milton  with  the 
work  of  Du  Bartas  by  Sylvester.  In  his  Di- 
vine Weehes  and  Works,  Copernicus  is  men- 
tioned, but  his  theories  are  dismissed  as  absurd; 
in  Paradise  Lost,  there  are  nine  references  to 
Galileo  and  one  to  Copernicus,  and  their  theo- 
ries are  either  accepted  as  a  belief  or  referred 
to  as  reasonable  or  possible,  if  not  yet  proved. 
Milton  met  Galileo  in  1638,  and  felt  sympathy 
for  his  independence  of  thought.  In  the  Areo- 
pagitica  is  this  reference :  "  There  it  was 
that  I  found  Galileo,  grown  old,  a  prisoner 
to  the  Inquisition  for  thinking  in  astronomy, 
otherwise  than  the  Franciscan  and  Dominican 
licensers  thought." 

The  references  in  Paradise  Lost  show  Mil- 
ton's familiarity  with  his  theories  and  his  re- 
spect for  his  work.  He  accepts  the  notion  of 
the  movement  of  the  planets  about  the  sun,  but, 
like  Brahe,  he  hesitates  to  loosen  the  earth 
from  her  permanent  place  in  the  universe,  for 
fear  of  undue  liberty  in  interpretation  of  the 
cosmogony  of  the  Old  Testament.  He  believes 
in  the  diurnal  movement  of  the  earth  and  ad- 
mits that  it  seems  absurd  that  the  heavier  bodies 
should  move  about  the  lesser.  He  can  only  re- 
sort to  mediaeval  mysticism,  on  this  point,  in 


Epic  Source  of  the  Lyrics    311 

a  passage  that  shows  his  hold  upon  past  meth- 
ods of  thought,  and  that,  on  this  subject,  he 
was  well  informed  but  unwilling  to  be  strictly 
scientific.^ 

An  examination  of  Milton's  mental  attitude 
from  Paradise  Lost  and  from  the  Treatise  on 
Christian  Doctrine  reveals  some  important  de- 
tails, for  the  understanding  of  his  literary  art. 
Milton  was  dowered  with  unusual  intellectual 
force,  a  keen  reason,  but  his  imagination  was 
stronger  than  his  reason  and  his  emotion  was 
sometimes  at  variance  with  reason.  The  result 
is  inconsistency.  There  is  little  doubt  also 
that  Milton  sought  to  justify  his  imagination 
by  his  reason  where  he  had  no  data,  and  that 
led  to  inconsistency.  His  imagination  in- 
spired him  to  dwell  upon  definite  pictures,  but 
his  reason  made  him  sceptical  of  what  had  not 
been  proved;  he  was  critical  of  pictures  too 
definite  to  be  in  harmony  with  an  abstraction, 
or  with  universal  truth;  the  result  is  the  pecu- 
liar phase  of  art  found  nowhere  in  such  perfec- 
tion as  in  Milton  and  justifying  a  paradox, 
for,  with  a  few  exceptions,  the  pictures  are  both  i 
definite  enough  for  our  imagination,  and  often 
indefinite  enough  to  satisfy  our  more  critical  1 
1  See  Book  VIII. ,  25-38,  71-178. 


312     The  Epic  of  Paradise  Lost 

reason,  and  the  final  judgment  is,  that  they 
seem  more  definite  than  they  are. 

In  so  far  as  Milton  engrafted  the  Ptolemaic 
system,  as  expounded  by  Dante,  it  is 
probable  that  he  was  influenced  by  these 
reasons : 

First,  both  a  study  of  Paradise  Lost,  and  of 
Milton's  prose  works,  reveals  that  he  sought  to 
hold  to  the  verbal  inspiration  of  the  Script- 
I  ures,  and  the  Ptolemaic  system  was  more 
I  easily  reconciled  to  the  Bible  account.  Sec- 
ond,  the  imaginative  material  from  the  utter- 
ances of  Plato,  of  Aristotle,  of  Homer,  of 
Virgil,  and  of  Cicero  seemed  embraced  in  their 
essential  details  in  the  Ptolemaic  system. 
There  is  a  certain  sequence  in  great  works  of 
art;  poets  of  universal  power  are  interested  in 
the  heritage  of  poets,  which  passes  into  de- 
vices for  an  imaginative  appeal.  Literary  art- 
ists make  use  of  these  devices  for  mental  pict- 
tures  and  do  not  hold  them  as  opposed  to 
reason.  This  consideration  blends  with  the 
third, — the  Ptolemaic  system  was  an  aid  to 
startlingly  clear  pictures^  a  not  insignificant 
artistic  aid  to  Milton,  who  had  attempted  the 
super-Promethean  task  of  rendering  vivid  the 
abstract,  of  making  an  epic  purely  of  abstrac- 


Epic  Source  of  the  Lyrics     3^3 

tions.     There  were  these  reasons  for  adopting 
the  Ptolemaic  system  in  Paradise  Lost, 

But  for  the  following  reasons,  Milton  did 
not  adopt  the  Ptolemaic  system:  First,  in 
Paradise  Lost  Milton  desired  to  follow  literally 
the  Bible  account,  but  this  he  fails  to  do.  With 
his  critical  reason,  here,  as  elsewhere,  he  judges 
for  himself,  and  proceeds  to  admit  fragments 
from  Copernicus,  from  Kepler  and  Galileo, 
that  are  at  variance  with  the  literal  reading  of 
the  Bible  verses,  and  that  subvert  the  Ptolemaic 
system.  Second,  although  Milton,  like  all 
artists  of  universal  power,  is  undoubtedly  in- 
terested in  the  classic  past  and  is  sensitively 
alive  to  the  beauty  of  the  classics  and  to 
the  appreciation  of  their  imaginative  appeal, 
still  a  closer  study  of  his  work  reveals  that  he 
forces  all  the  classic  material  through  a  cre- 
ative process  into  a  new  product,  conforming 
to  his  own  individual  taste.  This  is  true,  not 
only  in  great  matters,  but  in  minor  touches, 
and  these  differences  all  point  to  a  different 
conception  of  the  universe.  Third,  Milton's 
pictures  always  strike  the  reader  as  clearer 
than  they  are,  like  the  images  in  dreams.  This 
literary  effect  is  a  result  of  his  great  power  of 
will  and  of  the  mastery  of  his  art.  We  are  under 


314    The  Epic  of  Paradise  Lost 

ithe  influence  of  the  great  magician;  he  moulds 
his  material  before  us,  like  the  true  artist 
makes  us  see  what  he  wishes  us  to  see  and  de- 
pends upon  his  atmosphere  for  the  correction, 
so  that  when  one  holds  the  product  up  by  re- 
flection to  the  critical  light  of  reason,  it  gains 
in  universality  by  a  lack  of  definition.  This 
makes  a  peculiar  poetic  atmosphere  in  Mil- 
ton's work  that  is  potent,  even  though,  from 
not  being  understood,  it  is  not  sufiiciently 
appreciated. 

Milton  gains  in  artistic  power  by  one  phase 
of  his  inconsistency  in  the  plan  of  his  cos- 
mogony. If  Milton  uses  the  Ptolemaic  sys- 
tem, in  part,  he  redeems  his  universe  from  the 
definiteness  that  detracts  from  infinitude  by 
admitting  the  vast  and  the  unknown  in  the  do- 
main of  Chaos  and  Old  Night,  beyond  which 
lies  hell,  and  by  putting  his  heaven  above  the 
universe  altogether.  The  earth,  enclosed  in 
concentric  circles  and  shut  off  by  an  imper- 
vious wall  from  the  warring  elements  of  chaos, 
hangs  from  heaven  by  a  golden  chain.  It  is 
only  possible  to  enter  the  world  from  the  upper 
portion  near  heaven.  Still  Satan,  after  his 
daring  voyage  through  chaos  and  his  eluding 
of   perils    by    the   way,    after    he   has    accom- 


Epic  Source  of  the  Lyrics     3^5 

plished  the  fall  of  man  and  returns  in  triumph 
to  hell, — finds  a  bridge  built  across  chaos,  and 
the  infernal  gates  wide  open  for  traffic  with  the 
earth.  From  the  super-mundane  heaven,  an- 
gels have  been  daily  visitors,  have  walked  and 
talked  with  Adam  as  friend  with  friend;  the 
celestial  spirits  have  ministered  and  advised, 
warned  and  condemned  and  comforted  man. 
Whatever  we  are  told  of  the  cosmogony,  there- 
fore, the  plain  picture  that  appeals  to  the  im- 
agination is  an  earth  hung  in  limitless  space, 
open  to  the  visitors  from  heaven  above  and 
from  hell  beneath,  and  never  for  an  instant  in 
the  entire  work  are  we  permitted  to  conceive  of 
the  world  by  itself,  but  always  in  its  relation 
to  the  infinite  heaven  and  the  boundless  abyss. 
In  this  scope  Milton  is  not  unlike  Hawthorne, 
who  views  the  seen  always  in  relation  to  the  un- 
seen, or  Shakespeare  in  Macbeth  and  Hamlet', 
where  invisible  forces  press  upon  the  finite 
world. 

In  Homer,  the  abode  of  the  gods  is  on  a 
mountain  top;  and  Hades  is  in  the  dark  re- 
cesses of  the  earth.  In  Virgil,  earth,  heaven, 
and  Hades  are  joined,  likewise,  within  dis- 
tances that  can  be  traversed  by  man. 

In  the  Divvne  Comedy,  the  excursion  into  the 


3i6    The  Epic  of  Paradise  Lost 

spirit  land  is  extended  and  leads  to  abstract 
speculation,  but  Dante  merges  the  material 
with  the  spiritual  world,  shirks  the  question  of 
the  dualism  between  mind  and  matter,  and 
forces  the  spiritual  interpretation  of  all  by  his 
symbolism.  Accepting  the  more  complex  no- 
tions of  his  day,  resulting  from  the  fusion  of 
the  ideas  of  northern  and  of  southern  races, 
Dante  constructs  his  hell.  By  the  hole  under 
Jerusalem,  at  the  spot  where  the  "  sinless 
Man  "  died,  guided  by  Virgil,  he  makes  his  way 
to  Lucifer  at  the  centre  of  the  earth.  Climb- 
ing up  through  a  fissure  in  the  rock  and  led 
by  the  sound  of  a  rivulet,  he  mounts  to  Purga- 
tory, upon  whose  summit  Adam  and  Eve  dwelt 
in  their  happy  days  in  the  terr,estrial  Paradise. 
As  after  man's  fall,  no  mortal  had  entered  the 
southern  hemisphere,  Dante  startles  the  spirits 
of  ante-Purgatory  by  his  material  body.  Vir- 
gil says  to  them,  "  Marvel  not  thereat,  but 
believe  that  not  without  power  that  comes  from 
above,  he  seeks  to  surmount   this  wall." 

In  this  way,  the  poet  strives  to  restore  the 
reasonableness  to  his  story.  But  the  scaling  of 
the  wall  is  too  hard  for  Dante,  and  Lucia  comes 
and  bears  him,  sleeping,  to  the  height,  from 
whence  he  makes  his  perilous  way  to  the  earthly 


Epic  Source  of  the  Lyrics      317 

Paradise.  Later,  the  author  of  the  Divine 
Comedy  meets  a  greater  difficulty  in  this  at- 
tempt to  translate  a  material  body  to  the  abode 
of  spirits,  and  he  is  obliged  to  resort  to  the 
potency  of  the  river  Eunoe,  which  prepared 
Dante  for  the  ascent  of  heaven  by  causing  the 
force  that  draws  him  upward  to  be  stronger 
than  the  power  that  draws  him  downward. 
Thus  the  spirit  becomes  supreme  over  the  body, 
and,  by  means  of  this  power,  he  mounts  above 
the  starry  heavens  to  the  Primum  Mobile  and 
to  the  Empyrean  where  is  the  Rose  of  Paradise 
and  the  Beatific  Vision.  Milton's  universe 
differs    from   Dante's. 

By  putting  both  heaven  and  hell  outside  of  KlQ^ 
the  world,  Milton  gains  consistency  as  well  as 
sublimity.  His  fundamental  ideas  about  na- 
ture are  to  be  found  in  his  prose  work,  the 
Treatise  on  Christian  Doctrine,  compiled 
from  the  Holy  Scriptures.  Nature  is  the 
manifestation  of  the  glory  of  God,  for  in  the 
heavens,  he  reads  this  declaration,  "  I  am  Je- 
hovah, that  maketh  all  things,  that  stretcheth 
forth  the  heavens  alone;  that  spreadeth  abroad 
the  earth  by  myself."  This  is  the  explanation 
of  the  peculiar  power  of  Milton,  as  a  poet  of 
nature,   every   phase  of  nature   is   approached 


3i8     The  Epic  of  Paradise  Lost 

from  the  standpoint  of  the  universe,  and  crea- 
tion is  the  manifestation  of  the  "  High  and 
Holy  One  that  inhabiteth  eternity,  whose  name 
is  Holy,  dwelling  in  the  light  which  no  man 
can  approach  unto,  whom  no  man  hath  seen, 
nor  can  see." 

These  are  the  texts  upon  which  Milton  bases 
his  fundamental  conception  of  nature.  This 
spiritual  domination  was  not  only  the  condition 
at  the  time  of  creation,  but  Milton  maintains 
that  God  still  governs  the  world,  "  Upholding 
all  things  by  the  word  of  his  power."  Milton 
asserts ; 

The  ordinary  providence  of  God  is  that  whereby  he 
upholds  and  preserves  the  immutable  order  of  causes 
appointed  by  him  in  the  beginning.  This  is  commonly 
and  too  frequently  described  by  the  name  of  nature:  for 
nature  cannot  possibly  mean  anything  but  the  mysterious 
power  and  efficacy  of  that  divine  voice,  which  went  forth 
in  the  beginning  and  to  which,  as  to  a  perpetual  com- 
mand, all  things  have  since  paid  obedience. 

Milton's  conception  of  nature  as  the  mani- 
festation of  the  glory  of  God,  and  therefore  not 
comprehensible  by  man,  classifies  him  with 
those  who  believe  in  an  infinite  universe  with 
those  who  hold  that  complete  knowledge  of 
nature  will  never  be  attained.  Therefore 
the  Ptolemaic  system  was  opposed  to  Milton's 


Epic  Source  of  the  Lyrics      319 

mental  attitude.  Milton's  Idea  of  nature 
bears  in  itself  an  epic  attitude  of  mind  and 
makes  nature  a  fit  background  for  the  scope  of 
his  epic  of  Paradise  Lost,  This  harmony  is 
fitting  to  the  epic  for  as  Dryden  has  said  in 
his  essay  on  epic  poetry,  "  Even  the  least  por- 
tions of  them  [the  epic]  must  be  of  the  epick 
kind,  all  things  must  be  grave,  majestical  and 
sublime." 

Milton's  approach  to  nature  is  reverent. 
There  is  no  trace  of  ease  and  of  familiarity,  but 
rather  of  the  attitude  of  the  high  priests  who 
approached  with  awe  the  Holy  of  Holies.  From 
this  reverence,  as  a  poet  of  nature,  he  gains 
his  two  striking  characteristics,  sublimity  and 
mysticism,  two  phases  of  one  attitude.  It  is 
interesting  and  significant  to  compare  with 
these  utterances  of  Milton,  a  passage  from  the 
cosmogony  of  Kant: 

Two  things  there  are  which,  the  oftener  and  more 
steadfastly  we  contemplate  them,  fill  the  mind  with  an 
ever  new,  an  ever  rising  admiration  and  reverence  ;  the 
starry  Heavens  above,  the  moral  law  within,  and  both 
are  God's — of  Whom  and  to  Whom  and  through  Whom 
are  all  things — Who  is  over  all,  God  blessed  for  ever. 

Here  the  poet  joins  hands  with  the  philo- 
sopher, but  Kant  is  not  usually  mentioned  as 


320    The  Epic  of  Paradise  Lost 

showing  Hebrew  influence,  nor  is  Plato,  nor 
Shakespeare  in  Hamlet  nor  in  Lear,  nor  Dante 
in  the  Divine  Comedy,  nor  Wordsworth  in  the 
Ode  on  Immortality.  Still  the  attitude  is  the 
same  as  that  of  the  Hebrew  prophets.  A 
sense  of  the  mysterious  power  of  that  divine 
voice,  which  went  forth  in  the  beginning,  is 
present  with  them  all,  but  this  elevation  of 
mind  is  a  characteristic  of  the  minds  of  many 
who  see  into  the  heart  of  things.  It  is  not  an 
influence  that  falls  upon  one  from  without  and 
that  is  engrafted  into  one's  own  thought,  but 
it  is  an  attitude  inseparable  from  some  great 
natures,  whatever  the  range  of  manifestation 
of  power,  from  Michael  Angelo  to  Beethoven. 
This  type  of  mind  does  not  stop  with  so-called 
realism,  but  "  leads  us  to  the  edge  of  the  in- 
finite and  lets  us  look  into  that."  It  does  more, 
it  sometimes  starts  from  the  infinite  and  views 
life  only  in  its  relation  to  God. 

Universal  reality  emanates  from  this  higher 
mysticism, — not  the  mediaeval  mysticism,  not 
the  mysticism  of  the  worshipper  of  Isis  or  of 
Baal,  not  the  mysticism  that  is  the  mother  of 
superstition,  but  the  power  that  spurs  one's 
reason,  fires  one's  imagination  to  reach  toward 
the  infinite,  with,  however,  the  wide  vision  that 


Epic  Source  of  the  Lyrics     321 

sees  there  is  a  shadowy  hne  between  the  finite 
and  the  infinite,  between  Umited  reahty  and 
limitless  reality.  Tyndall,  Spencer,  Darwin, 
^as  well  as  Galileo,  Kepler,  and  Copernicus  re- 
cognised the  infinite  in  mapping  out  their  world 
of  thought,  but  their  interest  was  in  clearing 
up  the  mists,  the  Cimmerian  deserts,  in  the  re- 
gion of  the  known  and  in  pushing  out  the  bord- 
ers into  the  former  unknowable.  However, 
long  study  of  some  particular  manifestation 
did  not  so  absorb  their  powers  that  they  be- 
came men  of  limited  vision,  and  lost  their  sense 
of  proportion.  They  did  not  feel  that  the  veil 
of  the  innermost  temple  of  nature  had  been  rent 
in  twain  and  that  there  was  an  end,  or  could 
be  an  end  of  all  mystery.  Milton,  at  heart, 
had  the  same  interest  in  truth  as  these  men 
of  science — his  approach  was  different,  his 
method  sometimes  faulty ;  his  desire  was  to 
dwell  in  those  regions  of  thought  beyond  the 
transitory,  where  a  man  sees  things  as  God 
sees  them.  This  is  distinctly  the  epic 
attitude.  <  — 

From  this  elevated  conception  of  nature, 
arise  the  lyric  bursts  in  Paradise  Lost,  start- 
ing from  the  epic  and  returning  to  the  epic. 
In  fact,  the  conception  of  nature  as  infinite  sup- 


322     The  Epic  of  Paradise  Lost 

plies  the  dynamic  force  to  the  nature  lyric  not 
only  in  Paradise  Lost,  but  to  all  poetry  of 
nature.  The  momentum  is  greater  in  the  lyric 
that  arises  from  the  mystery  of  the  infinite 
than  in  the  lyric  that  starts  lower,  or  that 
aspires  to  a  lower  pitch. 

We  have  seen  then  that  the  fundamental  idea 
of  Milton's  attitude  toward  nature  is  gained 
from  his  use  of  the  cosmogony  he  had  inher- 
ited from  poets,  from  the  changes  he  made,  and 
from  his  poetical  and  artistic  reasons  for  these 
changes ;  but  It  is  from  the  descriptions  of  na- 
ture In  Paradise  Lost,  or  from  the  exquisite 
descriptive  similes,  that  we  naturally  gather  de- 
tails for  comprehending  his  thought  and  feel- 
ing about  nature.  The  first  conclusion  that 
one  must  draw  froni  an  examination  of  these 
passages  Is,  that  Milton  has  a  peculiar  tend- 
ency to^-view  -^every  detail  in^  relation  to  Jbhe 
whole,  and  this  Is  an  e|iic-te4^den^y. 

The  descriptive  passages  often  move  from 
the  vast  and  proceed  to  the  more  specific  de- 
tail, as  may  be  noted  In  the  first  view  of  the 
world,  or  from  the  minor  phases  of  nature  to- 
ward the  infinite.  Exactness,  In  these  pas- 
sages, arises  from  the  force  of  Imagination, 
which  tends  to  paint  vivid  pictures  and  seizes 


Epic  Source  of  the  Lyrics     323 

upon  the  details  for  that  purpose.  The  whole 
effect,  however,  is  not  grasped  by  the  reader  as 
a  picture  with  a  finished  outline,  for  the  edges 
fade  off  into  the  infinite.  In  the  passage  de- 
scriptive of  Satan's  flight  to  the  earth  may 
be  seen  Milton's  emphasis  upon  the'  imaginative 
grasp  of  details,  also  the  poet's  brooding  upon 
the  stars,  upon  the  mystery  of  night  and  of 
measureless  space.  These  phases  of  nature 
aided  him  in  the  describing  what  he  had  not 
seen. 

With  a  vivid  memory  of  the  scenes  of  hell, 
through  whose  gates  Satan  has  passed  into 
the  abode  of  Chaos  and  Old  Night,  the  reader 
watches  his  flight  toward  the  world.  The  ven- 
turesome spirit  sees  at  last  his  former  home, 
empyreal  heaven,  with  opal  towers  and  battle- 
ments of  living  sapphire,  and  fast  by,  "  hang- 
ing in  a  golden  chain,  the  pendant  world  in 
bigness  as  a  3tar."  By  these  details  we  are 
shown  the  relations  of  the  world  to  heaven,  to 
hell,  and  to  chaos,  and  the  earth  in  relation  to 
the  world.  In  the  third  book,  after  a  scene  in 
heaven  contrasting  with  the  description  of  hell, 
the  attention  of  the  reader  again  turns  toward 
the  perilous  journey  of  Satan,  and  he  again 
sees  the  relation  of  the  world  to  heaven  and  hell : 


324    The  Epic  of  Paradise  Lost 

Thus  they  in  heaven  above  the  starry  sphere 
Their  happy  hours  in  joy  and  hymning  spent. 
Meanwhile,  upon  the  firm  opacious  globe 
Of  this  round  world,  whose  first  convex  divides 
The  luminous  inferior  orbs  inclos'd 
From  Chaos  and  th'  inroad  of  Darkness  old, 
Satan  alighted  walks  :  a  globe  far  off 
It  seem'd,  now  seems  a  boundless  continent, 
Dark,  waste,  and  wild,  under  the  form  of  Night, 
Starless  expos' d,  and  ever  threatening  storms 
Of  Chaos  blust'ring  round  and  inclement  sky ; 
Save  on  that  side  which  from  the  wall  of  Heav'n 
Though  distant  far,  some  small  reflection  gains 
Of  glimmering  air  less  vex'd  with  tempest  loud  : 
(Book  III,  lines  416-429.) 

In  both  of  these  passages  the  scope  of  the 
thought  is  essentially  epic,  and  the  style  is  in 
key  with  the  whole  poem.  If  Milton's  funda- 
mental idea  of  the  universe  is  vast  in  its  scope, 
so  also  is  his  conception  of  the  smaller  details 
of  nature:  the  spirit  is  rarely  classical  even 
though  the  elements  chosen  are  very  frequently 
the  same  as  those  used  by  classic  authors  if  not 
directly  suggested  by  the  writers  of  Greece  and 
Rome.  In  a  very  familiar  passage,  usually 
selected  to  show  Milton's  tendency  to  appro- 
priate the  words  of  others,  there  is  an  interest- 
ing development  of  Milton's  progress  from  the 
definitely  realistic  as  seen  in, — 

As  bees 
In  springtime,  when  the  sun  with  Taurus  rides, 


Epic  Source  of  the  Lyrios     325 

Pour  forth  their  populous  youth  above  the  hive 
In  clusters  ;  they  among  fresh  dews  and  flowers 
Fly  to  and  fro,  or  on  the  smoothed  plank, 
The  suburb  of  their  straw-built  citadel,  — 

to  the  purer  realm  of  imagination,  moving  to- 
ward the  vast,  with  a  grander  sweep  of 
melody : 

while  overhead  the  moon 
Sits  arbitress,  and  nearer  to  the  earth 
Wheels  her  pale  course;  they,  on  their  mirth  and  dance 
Intent,  with  jocund  music  charm  his  ear; 
At  once,  with  joy  and  fear  his  heart  rebounds. 

(Book  I,  768-789.) 

Milton's  conception  of  the  vastness  of  nature 
gives  the  dynamic  power  creating  the  lyric  im- 
pulse.    The  majesty  of  nature  may  terrify  and 
dwarf    the    lyric    impulse,    but    not    when    the 
thought  of  the  dignity  of  man  keeps  pace  with 
a    sense    of    the    sublimity    of    nature.       This?" 
greater  power  of  the  lyric  carried  to  its  fullest  \ 
development  merges  with  the  epic.     The  force   | 
is  too  great  to  remain  personal  and  passes  into  / 
a  universal  uplift  toward  the  abstract.     This  j 
is  the  play  of  the  lyric,  we  constantly  find  inL 
Paradise  Lost,     It  is  not  to  be  explained  alone 
by  the  epic  theme,  by  the  fact  that  Milton  is 
so  perfectly  the  artist  that  he  blends  all  parts  of 
the  epic  into  harmony,  but  it  is  characteristic 


326    The  Epic  of  Paradise  Lost 

of  Milton,  in  his  conception  of  God,  of  nature, 
and  of  man,  as  is  revealed  in  his  prose  as  well 
as  in  his  poetry.  There  is  the  latent  lyric  at- 
titude where  it  is  not  expressed,  and  it  takes  its 
rise  at  the  very  source  of  the  epic  itself,  that  is 
the  dream  of  Eden  spoiled  by  the  entrance  of 
evil. 

The  greatest  lines  in  Coleridge,  in  Words- 
worth, in  Shelley,  and  in  Byron  have  the 
Miltonic  ring,  Tiot  because  these  poets  were 
imitating  Milton,  but  because  the  author  of 
Paradise  Lost  struck  the  philosophical  basis  of 
the  greatest  lyric,  and  they,  with  less  power, 
now  and  then  hit  the  same  key,  or  near  it. 

Some  selections  may  show  the  relation  of  the 
epic  and  the  lyric  in  Milton's  Paradise  Lost. 
The  display  of  so  wide  a  background  is  in  it- 
'  self  epical ;  earth,  heaven,  and  hell  are  kept 
within  our  field  of  vision  and  a  lyric  sometimes 
helps  to  preserve  the  entirety  of  the  scene. 
The  connection  of  the  earth  with  the  infinite  is 
kept  by  the  celestial  spectators,  who  applaud 
or  deplore  the  drama  acted  in  the  world;  co- 
horts of  angels  attend  the  Son  of  God  on  his 
way,  when  he  planned  the  universe;  angelic 
music  applauded  the  works  of  creation  in  a 
passage  that  suggests  a  suppressed  chorus  for 


Epic  Source  of  the  Lyrics      327 

a   tragedy    on   the   model   of   ^schylus    or   of 
Euripides  : 

**Open,  ye  everlasting  gates,"  they  sung, 
"Open,  ye  heavens,  your  living  doors  ;  let  in 
The  great  Creator,  from  his  work  return'  d 
Magnificent,  his  six  days*  work,  a  world  !  " 
(Book  VII,  565-568.) 

Thus  was  the  first  day  ev*  n  and  morn  : 

Nor  past  uncelebrated,  nor  unsung 

By  the  celestial  choirs,  when  orient  light 

Exhaling  first  from  darkness,  they  beheld 

Birth  day  of  heaven  and  earth  ;  with  joy  and  shout 

The  hollow  universal  orb  they  fiU'd 

And  touch'd  their  golden  harps,  and  hymning  prais'd 

God  and  his  works  :    Creator,  him  they  sung 

Both  when  first  evening  was,  and  when  first  morn. 

(Book  VII,  252-260.) 

The  beauty  of  earth  is  enhanced  by  the 
thought  of  the  divine  presence,  and  elevated  by 
a  comparison  with  ideal  beauty,  as  is  seen  in 
this  passage,  a  type  of  many: 

with  high  woods,  the  hills  were  crown'd  ; 
With  tufts  the  valleys  and  each  fountain  side 
With  borders  long  the  rivers :  that  earth  now 
Seem'd  like  to  heaven,  a  seat  where  gods  might  dwell 
Or  wander  with  delight,  and  love  to  haunt 
Her  sacred  shades. 

(Book  VII,  325-331) 

The  divine  presence  is  not  withdrawn  from 
the  world  after  it  is   created,   but   one   might 


328     The  Epic  of  Paradise  Lost 

meet  the  messengers  of  God  face  to  face  in 
Eden  in  the  hush  of  noontide,  or  in  twiHght 
calm.  Adam  calls  Eve  to  enjoy  the  beauty  of 
the  approach  of  the  angel: 

*'  Haste  hither,  Eve,  and  worth  thy  sight  behold 
Eastward  among  those  trees,  what  glorious  shape 
Comes  this  way  moving,  seems  another  morn 
Ris'n  on  midnoon  ;  ** 

(Book  V,  308-311.) 

Angels  come,  as  the  messengers  of  God,  and 
man  looks  up  to  the  divine  visitor,  as  to  a  wise 
friend,  to  whom  he  offers  hospitability  and  from 
whom  he  is  unwilling  to  part. 

"  Go,  therefore,  half  this  day  as  friend  with  friend 
Converse  with  Adam,  in  what  bower  or  shade 
Thou  find'st  him,  from  the  heat  of  noon  retir'd 
To  respit  his  day-labour  with  repast 
Or  with  respose  ;" 

(BookV,  239-233.) 

Adam  urges  the  angel  to  remain  in  Paradise, — 

**  Suspense  in  heaven. 
Held  by  thy  voice,  thy  potent  voice,  he  hears 
And  longer  will  delay  to  hear  thee  tell 
His  generation  and  the  rising  birth 
Of  nature,  from  the  unapparent  deep  : 
Or  if  the  star  of  ev'  ning,  and  the  moon 
Haste  to  thy  audience.  Night  with  her  will  bring 
Silence,  and  Sleep  listening  to  thee  will  watch, 
Or  we  can  bid  his  absence,  till  thy  song 
End  and  dismiss  thee,  ere  the  morning  shine.  " 
(Book  VII,  99-108.) 


Epic  Source  of  the  Lyrics     329 

The  cherubim  form  an  angelic  guard,  as  may  be 
seen  in  words  that  are  descriptive  of  hght  in 
the  heavens  at  nightfall: 

Now  had  Night  measur'd,  with  her  shadowy  cone, 
Half  way  up  hill  this  vast  sublunar  vault, 
And  from  their  ivory  port,  the  cherubim 
Forth  issuing  at  th'  accustomed  hour,  stood  arm'd 
To  their  night  watches,  in  warlike  parade, 
(Book  IV,  776-780.) 

Or  as  may  be  noted  in  the  passage  descriptive 
of  sunset,  when  Uriel  came  to  warn  the  guard- 
ian angels  of  Satan's  invasion  of  Paradise.-*^ 
All  heaven  takes  benignant  interest  in  the 
nuptials  of  Adam  and  Eve,  and  joins  with 
earth's   epithalamium : 

...  all  heav'n 
And  happy  constellations,  on  that  hour. 
Shed  their  selected  influence  :  the  earth 
Gave  sign  of  gratulation,  and  each  hill ; 
Joyous  the  birds  ;  fresh  gales  and  gentle  airs 
Whisper'd  it  to  the  woods^  and  from  their  wings 
Flung  rose,  flung  odours  from  the  spicy  shrub, 
Disporting,  till  the  amorous  bird  of  night 
Sung  spousal ,  and  bid  haste  the  evening  star 
On  his  hill- top,  to  light  the  bridal  lamp. 

(Book  VIII,  511-520.) 

The  divine  influences  are  not  only  prominent  in 
the  life  of  Adam  and  Eve  in  Eden,  but  all  of 

» Book  V,  540-560. 


OF  THE  A 

UNIVERSITY  I 

nc  f 


330    The  Epic  of  Paradise  Lost 

their  deep  experiences  are  joined  with  thoughts 
of  nature,  as  may  be  seen  in  Adam's  remin- 
iscence of  his  first  day  of  life: 

**As  new  wak'd  from  soundest  sleep 
Soft  in  the  flowery  herb,  I  found  me  laid  *' 

(Book  VIII,  253-254.) 

In  Eve's  memory  of  her  first  moment  of  life, 

"  I  first  awak'd  and  found  myself  repos'd 
Under  a  shade  on  flow'rs,  *' 

(Book  IV,  450-451.) 

or  in  Eve's  beautiful  lyric  of  love,  we  may  no- 
tice the  same  memory  of  nature: 

"  But  neither  breath  of  mom,  when  she  ascends 
With  charm  of  earliest  birds,  nor  rising  sun 
On  this  delightful  land,  nor  herb,  fruit,  flower 
GHst'ring  with  dew,  nor  fragrance  after  showers, 
Nor  grateful  evening  mild,  nor  silent  night 
With  this  her  solemn  bird,  nor  walk  by  morn 
Or  glittering  starlight,  without  thee  is  sweet." 
(Book  IV,  650-656.) 

In  their  morning  prayer,  Adam  and  Eve  call 
upon  all  the  works  of  God  to  join  them  in 
praise.  The  superiority  of  man  is  asserted 
over  the  lower  animals,  who  gambol  about 
Adam  and  Eve,  at  sunset,  and  seek  their  atten- 
tion ;  but  into  their  bower. 

Beast,  bird,  insect  or  worm  durst  enter  none 
Such  was  the  awe  of  Man. 

(Book  IV,  704-705.) 


Epic  Source  of  the  Lyrics      331 

In  the  passages  that  have  been  quoted  from 
Milton,  it  is  evident  that  not  all  have  the  lyric 
freedom.  The  movement  is  from  the  vast  mov- 
ing with  momentum  toward  a  free  expression  of 
the  emotion,  which  is  a  personal  enthusiasm  for 
the  beauty  described. 

Frequently,  the  lines  do  not  reach  their  full 
enthusiastic  expression,  and  they  do  not,  there- 
fore, become  truly  lyrical.  In  the  cases  where 
the  free  lyrical  note  is  attained,  the  duration  is 
\erj  short.  The  tendency  in  Paradise  Lost  is 
everywhere  epical;  the  return  to  the  epic  comes 
so  quickly  that  the  lyric  outburst  must  be  brief, 
for  it  loses  itself  in  the  universal  elevation. 
This  is  the  range  of  the  lyric  in  Paradise  Lost^ 
arising  from  the  epic  and  returning  to  the  epic. 

In  general  in  lyric  poetry,  there  are  two 
movements:  from  the  universal  to  the  more 
narrowly  personal — which  is  usually  the  per- 
sonal feeling  of  the  poet;  or  a  movement  from 
the  particular  phase  of  emotion — ^which  is  usu- 
ally the  personal  feeling  of  the  poet — toward 
the  universal  experience  of  man  or  toward  the 
infinite. 

Both  these  types  are  found  in  Byron.  His 
habitual  mood  is  personal,  for  he  modifies  the 
universal   human    feeling   by   interpreting   the 


332    The  Epic  of  Paradise  Lost 

general  experience  of  man  in  the  terms  of  his 
own  peculiar  emotion.  There  are  however 
many  lines  in  his  work  where  the  effort 
is  to  rise  out  of  himself  toward  universal  na- 
ture, or  God: 

I  live  not  in  myself,  but  I  become 
Portion  of  that  around  me  ;  and  to  me 
High  mountains  are  a  feeling. 

{Childe  Harold,  III,  72.) 

Are  not  the  mountains,  waves,  and  skies  a  part 
Of  me  and  of  my  soul,  as  I  of  them  ? 

{Childe  Harold,  III,  75.) 

And  this  is  in  the  night ;  most  glorious  night  I 
Thou  wert  not  sent  for  slumber  !  let  me  be 
A  sharer  in  thy  fierce  and  far  delight, 
A  portion  of  the  tempest  and  of  thee  ! 

(Canto  III,  93.) 

The  poet's  longing  to  be  one  with  nature  sug- 
gests Shelley's  lyric  cry: 

If  I  were  a  swift  cloud  to  fly  with  thee  ; 
A  wave  to  pant  beneath  thy  power,  and  share 
The  impulse  of  thy  strength,  only  less  free 
Than  thou,  O  uncontrollable  I 

{Ode  to  the  West  Wind) 

The  desire  to  rise  toward  the  infinite  is  more 
fully  expressed  in  these  lines  from  Shelley: 

That  Light,  whose  smile  kindles  the  universe,  I 

That  Beauty,  in  which  all  things  work  and  move, 
That  Benediction,  which  the  eclipsing  curse 


Epic  Source  of  the  Lyrics      333 

Of  birth  can  quench  not,  that  sustaining  Love, 
Which  thro'  the  web  of  being  blindly  wove 
By  man  and  beast  and  earth  and  air  and  sea, 
Burns  bright,  or  dim,  as  each  are  mirrors  of 
The  fire,  for  which  all  thirst ;  now  beams  on  me. 
Consuming  the  last  clouds  of  cold  mortality. 

(Adonais) 

The  lifting  of  the  personal  toward  the  uni- 
versal finds  more  articulate  expression  in  these 
lines  of  Wordsworth: 

And  I  have  felt 
A  presence  that  disturbs  me  with  the  joy 
Of  elevated  thoughts,  a  sense  sublime. 
Of  something  far  more  deeply  interfused, 
Whose  dwelling  is  the  light  of  setting  suns, 
And  the  round  ocean,  and  the  living  air, 
And  the  blue  sky,  and  in  the  mind  of  man; 
A  motion  and  a  spirit,  that  impels 
All  thinking  things,  all  objects,  of  all  thought, 
And  rolls  through  all  things. 

(Tint em  Abbey,) 
This  is  an  epic  movement  in  the  lyric  and  is 
fundamentally  the  type  found  in  Paradise  Lost, 
When  the  starting  point  of  the  lyric  is  higher, 
the  momentum  is  greater  than  otherwise  and 
that  gives  a  superior  force  to  the  lyric  bursts 
in  Paradise  Lost. 

There  are  three  stages  that  may  be  noted  in 
all  lyrical  expression: 

First,  that  in  which  reason  predominates  to 


334    The  Epic  of  Paradise  Lost 

restrain  the  lyric  impulse  and  to  direct  it  to- 
ward prose; 

Second,  that  in  which  reason  is  partly  fused 
by  imagination  and  emotion ;  and  this  is  a  stage 
of  lyric  development  usually  found  in  the  Eng- 
lish poets; 

Third,  that  in  which  the  thought,  starting 
in  reason,  has  been  brooded  over  and  passed  on, 
a  completed  intellectual  product,  to  the  imagina- 
tion and  the  emotion,  by  which  it  is  perfectly 
fused  and  finds  expression  as  a  sublimation  of 
reason  and  emotion  in  the  lyric.  When  this 
perfect  fusion  has  taken  place  the  expression  in 
words  or  in  music  is  accidental,  the  intellectual 
product  is  the  same.  It  is  a  lyric  idea  or  a 
musical  idea  depending  upon  whether  the  self- 
same process  has  taken  place  in  the  brain  of  a 
Schubert  or  of  a  Shelley;  a  Beethoven  or  a 
Milton ;  the  rest  is  technique. 

The  first  stage  finds  exemplification  in  much 
of  Milton's  poetry.  The  author  of  Paradise 
Lost,  together  with  most  English  poets,  ex- 
periences the  difficulty  of  merging  the  rational 
element  with  the  lighter  lilt  of  pure  emotion. 

The  greatest  men  have  been  distinguished  for 
clearness  of  thought,  force  of  imagination,  and 
wide  range  of  emotion.   Such  men  were  Michael 


Epic  Source  of  the  Lyrics     335 

Angelo,  Leonardo  da  Vinci,  Shakespeare,  Goethe, 
and  Milton.  Few  men,  in  all  the  world's 
history,  have  achieved  a  balance  of  these  powers 
of  their  nature.  The  tendency  of  one  power 
to  escape  from  control  and  to  dominate  all 
others  forms  an  interesting  study  in  the  life 
and  the  works  of  men  of  genius.  The  highest 
development  of  the  lyric  arises  from  the  con- 
centration of  thought  that  has  inspired  the 
imagination ;  so  that,  free  from  conscious 
thought,  but  not  opposed  to  reason,  it  passes 
on  in  sublimated  form,  through  emotion,  into 
the  clear  lilt  of  song.  The  three  stages  of  this 
rise  into  lyric  power  are  often  discernible  in 
one  passage  from  Wordsworth,  or  from  Milton. 
The  most  conspicuous  passages  from  Para- 
dise Lost  that  drop  proseward  are  doctrinal 
sections,  where  Milton's  mind  is  busy  with 
theories  of  theology  or  with  material  of  past 
and  future  controversy.  There  are  other 
lines  in  which  his  lyric  impulse  is  chilled  by 
fear,  for  two  reasons:  first,  because  he  has  too 
deep  an  insight,  too  clear  a  judgment,  not  to 
perceive  that  a  finite  being  cannot  grasp  the 
infinite  with  sufficient  clearness  to  portray  God ; 
second,  because  in  his  attempts  to  portray 
heaven    and    God's    direct    commands    to    his 


336    The  Epic  of  Paradise  Lost 

celestial  ministers,  he  fears  that  he  may  fall 
into  inconsistency  and  present  a  vulnerable 
spot  to  the  theologians.  It  is  true  that  Milton  , 
had  not  avoided  theological  controversy,  but  it 
is  also  true  that,  in  most  fundamental  princi- 
ples of  Christian  faith,  he  was  more  conserva- 
tive than  his  bold  utterances  might  lead  us  at 
first  to  believe.  These  considerations  make  his 
muse  conscious  and  check  the  freedom  of  his 
verses.  When  Milton  turns  from  these  difG- 
cult  attempts  to  depict  God,  to  portray  the 
adoration  of  the  angels,  there  is  a  rise  in  poetic 
power  into  the  second  stage,  wherein  the 
rational  element  is  partly  fused  with  the  emo- 
tional, and  this  stage,  in  varying  degrees  of 
predominance,  marks  the  usual  lyric  power  of 
Milton  and  of  all  poets.  It  is  only  in  rare 
touches  that  Milton  attains  the  highest  lyric 
lilt,  in  which  the  conscious  rational  element  dis- 
appears altogether,  while  the  influence  of  the 
reason  remains  in  the  justification  of  the  emo- 
tion, and  these  passages  always  express  en- 
thusiasm for  nature. 

Paradise  Lost,  since  it  was  written  after  Mil- 
ton had  become  blind,  opens  up  an  interesting 
field  for  research  in  the  poet's  attitude  toward 
the  details  of  nature.     The  poet  can  no  longer 


Epic  Source  of  the  Lyrics     337 

go  forth  to  the  wood  and  the  fresh  fields  to  view 
the  dawn,  or  the  twihght,  the  tempest,  or  the 
calm  stars.  The  nature  of  Paradise  Lost  is 
accurate  in  detail,  but  it  is  a  broadly  personal 
world  suffused  with  a  sentiment  for  nature. 
There  is  sublimation  of  detail  arising  from  the 
maturity  of  intense  feeling;  from  the  remem- 
bered joys  of  that  happy  time  before  his  loss  of 
sight  had  debarred  him  from  new  impressions. 
This  fusion  of  details  into  a  suggestive  picture 
may  arise  also  from  his  habit  of  relating  all 
particular  impressions  to  man's  more  universal 
experience.  Some  of  Milton's  descriptions  of 
nature  are  classical  in  richness ;  there  are 
touches  that  have  the  outspoken  frankness  of 
the  Renaissance,  and  nowhere  is  he  ascetic,  or 
negative,  but  he  enters  into  the  enjoyment  of 
nature  with  fulness  of  life.  His  earth  is  not 
however  the  earth  of  Ovid,  nor  of  Hardy,  but 
a  place  where  angels  walked  and  talked  with 
man  and  there  is  a  holiness  in  its  charm.  When 
man  by  sin  put  to  flight  the  angels,  earth  was 
less  beautiful,  and  thus  Milton  viewed  nature 
ideally,  for  a  veil  of  higher  sentiment,  like  a 
mist  in  the  valley  of  Grasmere,  suffuses  all 
nature. 

It  is  interesting  to  see  what  experiences  of 


33S    The  Epic  of  Paradise  Lost 

nature,  stored  in  his  mind  in  more  fortunate 
days,  he  draws  upon  in  his  years  of  bhndness. 
The  phases  of  nature  that  recur  most  fre- 
quently are:  dawn,  the  early  hours  of  morning, 
noontime,  sunset,  evening,  the  moon,  stars, 
mirage,  eclipse,  thunder,  lightning,  tempests, 
volcanoes,  echoes  among  rocks,  wind  blustering, 
sound  of  waters,  of  trees,  of  birds.  Most  of 
these  were  to  him  an  actual  experience,  of 
others  he  had  read.  These  phases  of  nature 
fall  into  two  general  classes, — first,  those  that 
have  the  beauty,  not  so  much  of  majestic 
sweetness,  as  of  terror,  where,  however,  force 
passes  toward  sublimity  rather  than  toward 
sensationalism.  There  is,  in  these  passages, 
an  exultation  in  might  that  may  inspire  a 
Byron,  although  to  a  strain  less  grand  than 
that  of  his  master.  In  English  literature,  the 
only  passages  descriptive  of  nature  that  can  be 
compared  in  force  are  to  be  found  in  the  works 
of  Shakespeare,  in  King  Lear,  in  Macbeth,  and 
in  Hamlet.  There  is  a  suggestion  of  this  style 
of  description  of  nature  in  the  thirty-eighth 
chapter  of  Job. 

In  the  following  lines,  from  the  speech  of 
Satan  to  inspire  Beelzebub  to  courage,  one  may 
notice   that   the   details   that    appealed   to   the 


Epic  Source  of  the  Lyrics      339 

imargination  of  Milton  are  to  be  found  in  a 
thunderstorm,  and  it  is  difficult  to  recall  in  any 
poetry  a  passage  more  eloquent  of  delight  in 
power: 

**  But  see  I  the  angry  victor  hath  recalled 
His  ministers  of  vengeance  and  pursuit 
Back  to  the  gates  of  heaven  ;  the  sulphurous  hail 
Shot  after  us  in  storm,  o'erblown  hath  laid 
The  fiery  surge,  that  from  the  precipice 
Of  heaven  received  us  falling,  and  the  thunder 
Wing'd  with  red  lightning  and  impetuous  rage 
Perhaps  hath  spent  his  shafts,  and  ceases  now 
To  bellow  through  the  vast  and  boundless  deep." 

(Book  1, 169-177.) 

In  a  spirited  passage  chosen  from  the  coun- 
cil of  the  infernal  powers  there  may  be  found 
another  description  of  a  tempest  in  which 
lightning,  whirlwinds,  and  the  boiling  ocean 
are  suggested  with  terrific  vigour: 

**What,ifaU 
Her  stores  were  open'd  and  this  firmament 
Of  hell  should  spout  her  cataracts  of  fire. 
Impendent  horrors,  threatening  hideous  fall 
One  day  upon  our  heads  ;  while  we,  perhaps 
Designing  or  exhorting  glorious  war, 
Caught  in  a  fiery  tempest  shall  be  hurl'd 
Each  on  his  rock  transfixed,  the  sport  and  prey 
Of  wracking  whirlwinds  ;  or  for  ever  sunk 
Under  yon  boiling  ocean,  wrapt  in  chains  ; 


340    The  Epic  of  Paradise  Lost 

There  to  converse  with  everlasting  groans, 
Unrespited,  unpitied,  unreprieved, 
Ages  of  hopeless  end  ?  " 

(Book  II,  174-186.) 

If  we  compare  with  these  lines  Byron's  de- 
scription of  a  storm,  we  notice  that  the  lack  of 
height  and  depth  makes  his  poetry  less  free  in 
lyric  force,  while  the  lines  are  more  oratorical: 

The  sky  is  changed. — And  such  a  change  I    Oh  night, 
And  storm,  and  darkness,  ye  are  wondrous  strong, 
Yet  lovely  in  your  strength,  as  is  the  light 
Of  a  dark  eye  in  woman  1    Far  along 
From  peak  to  peak,  the  rattling  crags  among 
Leaps  the  live  thunder  I    Not  from  one  lone  cloud. 
But  every  mountain  now  hath  found  a  tongue  ; 
And  Jura  answers,  through  her  misty  shroud, 
Back  to  the  joyous  Alps,  who  call  to  her  aloud ! 

(Childe  Harold,  III,  92.) 

A  storm  on  the  ocean  is  again  portrayed  by 
Milton  in  a  selection  remarkable  for  its  imagin- 
ative grasp  of  the  fury  of  the  sea: 

On  heavenly  ground  they  stood,  and  from  the  shore 
They  viewed  the  vast,  immeasurable  abyss 
Outrageous  as  a  sea,  dark,  wasteful,  wild. 
Up  from  the  bottom  turn'd  by  furious  winds 
And  surging  waves,  as  mountains,  to  assault 
Heaven's  height,  and  with  the  centre  mix  the  pole. 

(Book  VII,  210-215.) 

Other  similes  in  Paradise  Lost  are  borrowed 


Epic  Source  of  the  Lyrics      341 

from  the  terror  of  an  eruption  that  shatters 
the  side  of  "  Thundering  iEtna,"  from  the  pop- 
ular fear  of  an  ecHpse  "  that  perplexes  mon- 
archs  with  fear  of  change,"  or  from  the 
mysterious  course  of  meteors. 

Under  the  second  class  of  the  phases  of 
nature,  selected  for  treatment  by  Milton,  are 
those  that  have  the  charm  of  tranquil  beauty, 
often  majestic,  blending  with  the  sublime  and 
in  certain  lines  tending  toward  the  first  class 
of  beauty  with  terror.  The  best  example  of 
this  tranquil  type  is  found  in  the  description 
of  morning  in  the  garden  of  Eden,  as  lovely  as 
"  when  fair  morning  first  smiled  on  the  world," 
an  ideal  for  poets,  who  view  nature  through  the 
golden  light  of  poetic  sentiment.  Under  this 
division  are  similes  of  "  the  morning  star  that 
guides  the  starry  flock,"  descriptions  of  when — 

Morn, 
Wak'd  by  the  circling  hours,  with  rosy  hand, 
Unbarr'd  the  gates  of  light. 

(Book  VII,  2-4.) 


and  now  went  forth  the  morn 
Such  as  in  highest  heaven,  array'd  in  gold 
Empyreal ;  from  before  her  vanished  night 
Shot  through  with  orient  beams. 

(Book  V,  12-15.) 


342     The  Epic  of  Paradise  Lost 

In  freshness  and  purity  Wordsworth's  fre- 
quent lines  upon  morning  supply  interesting 
ground  for  comparison. 

The  sky  rejoices  in  the  morning's  birth. « 


Never  did  sun  more  beautifully  steep 

In  his  first  splendour  valley,  rock,  or  hill ; 

Ne'er  saw  I,  never  felt  a  calm  so  deep. 

(Sonnet.) 

In  Milton's  portrayal  of  evening  there  is  an 
exquisite  companion  picture  that  compresses 
into  twelve  lyrical  lines  all  that  is  most  sug- 
gestive of  poetic  sentiment  dwelling  upon  twi- 
light and  evening.  With  this  passage  we  may 
compare  a  selection  from  Wordsworth  that 
rises  towards  Miltonic  power.  In  Milton's 
lines  one  finds  colours  at  sunset,  sounds  of 
evening  falling  upon  palpable  silence: 

Now  came  still  evening  on,  and  twilight  grey 
Had  in  her  sober  livery  all  things  clad, 
Silence  accompany 'd  ;  for  beast  and  bird, 
They  to  their  grassy  couch,  these  to  their  nests, 
Were  slunk,  all  but  the  wakeful  nightingale  ; 
She  all  night  long  her  amorous  descant  sung  ; 
Silence  was  pleased  :    now  glowed  the  firmament 
With  living  sapphires  ;  Hesperus  that  led 
The  starry  host  rode  brightest,  till  the  moon, 
Rising  in  clouded  majesty,  at  length 

1  Resolution  and  Independence, 


Epic  Source  of  the  Lyrics      343 

Apparent  queen,  unveiled  her  peerless  light, 
And  o'er  the  dark  her  silver  mantle  threw. 

(Book  IV,  598-609.) 

In  elevation,  colour,  and  suggestion  of  sounds 
of  nature  at  evening,  it  is  interesting  to  com- 
pare these  lines  from  Wordsworth: 

the  broad  sun 
Is  sinking  down  in  its  tranquillity  ; 
The  gentleness  of  heaven  broods  on  the  sea  ; 
Listen  I  the  mighty  Being  is  awake 
And  doth  with  His  eternal  motion  make 
A  sound  like  thunder— everlastingly. 

(Sonnet.) 

A  song  falling  upon  silence  suggests  another 
comparison.  In  the  Ancient  Mariner  two  lines 
have  the  Miltonic  uplift. 

And  now  it  is  an  angels'  song, 
That  makes  the  heavens  be  mute. 

These  two  lines  from  Wordsworth  have  the 
same  mysterious  Miltonic  elevation: 

Breaking  the  silence  of  the  seas 
Among  the  farthest  Hebrides. 

(The  Solitary  Reaper.) 

In  the  last  part  of  one  of  Milton's  de- 
scriptions of  the  garden  of  Eden  there  is  a 
reminiscence  of  the  delights  of  nature  found  in 
accounts  of  Araby  the  blest.    The  last  five  lines 


344    The  Epic  of  Paradise  Lost 

have  a  lilt  that  again  suggests  a  comparison 
with  some  more  modern  lyrics. 

The  birds  their  quire  apply  ;  airs,  vernal  airs, 
Breathing  the  smell  of  field  and  grove,  attune 
The  trembling  leaves,  while  universal  Pan, 
Knit  with  the  Graces  and  the  Hours  in  dance. 
Led  oil  th'  eternal  spring. 

(Book  IV,  Unes  264-268.) 

The  sound  of  the  rippling  of  leaves  and  waters 
is  heard  again  in  these  Hnes: 

.  .  .  th'  only  sound 
Of  leaves  and  fuming  rills,  Aurora's  fan, 
Lightly  dispersed  and  the  shrill  matin  song 
Of  birds  on  every  bough. 

(Book  V,  lines  4-7.) 

The  following  lines  from  Wordsworth  lead  us 
where  leaves  respond  to  a  breeze  of  the  vernal 
air  and  add  their  movement  to  the  vibrating  joy 
of  spring;  but  we  notice  that  the  momentum  is 
less  than  in  Paradise  Lost. 

The  budding  twigs  spread  out  their  fan 
To  catch  the  breezy  air. 

{Lines  Written  in  Early  Spring.) 

The  sounds  of  waters  in  the  wood  are  again 
the  theme  of  song  of  another  more  modern 
poet,  a  disciple  of  Milton.  If  the  melody  of 
the  acolyte  is  lighter  and  more  like  the  harp 


Epic  Source  of  the  Lyrics      345 

than   the   organ,   the   sweep    of   the   melody   is 
complete. 

A  noi^e  like  of  a  hidden  brook 

In  the  leafy  month  of  June, 
That  to  the  sleeping  woods  all  night 

Singeth  a  quiet  tune. 

(Coleridge,  Ancient  Mariittr.^f 

'  ■   't 

In  a  passage  more  personal  than  universal,  in 
which  the  bitterness  of  grief  has  passed  into  \ 
pensive  sweetness,  Milton  in  an  elegiac  strain 
inspired  by  the  reflections  upon  his  blindness 
again  sings  of  brooks  and  birds,  of  the  silence 
of  the  woods,  and  of  the  sweet  approach  of  eve 
or  morn: 

Yet  not  the  more 
Cease  I  to  wander  where  the  Muses  haunt 
Clear  spring,  or  shady  grove,  or  sunny  hill, 
Smit  with  the  love  of  sacred  song  ;  but  chief 
Thee  Sion,  and  the  flowery  brooks  beneath 
That  wash  thy  hallow'd  feet,  and  warbling  flow 
Nightly  I  visit. 

(Book  III,  26-32.) 

Then  feed  on  thoughts,  that  voluntary  move  , 
Harmonious  numbers  ;  as  the  wakeful  bird 
Sings  darkling,  and  in  shadiest  covert  hi^\ 
Tunes  her  nocturnal  note.     Thus  with  the  year 
Seasons  return,  but  not  to  me  returns 
Day,  or  the  sweet  approach  of  even  or  morn , 
Or  sight  of  vernal  bloom,  or  summer's  rose, 
Or  flocks,  or  herds,  or  human  face  divine  ; 


346     The  Epic  of  Paradise  Lost 

But  cloud  instead,  and  ever-during  dark  ; 
Surrounds  me,  from  the  cheerful  ways  of  men 
Cut  off,  and  for  the  book  of  knowledge  fair 
Presented  with  a  universal  blank 
Of  nature's  works  to  me  expung'd  and  ras'd 
And  wisdom  at  one  entrance  quite  shut  out. 

(Book  III,  37-50.) 

All  of  the  best  examples  of  the  lyric  in 
Paradise  Lost  are  found  in  brief  passages  and 
in  every  instance  joined  with  a  feeling  for  na- 
ture. There  may  be  noticed  in  these  passages 
quoted  from  Milton,  the  lyrical  impulse  that 
rises  with  a  lilt  toward  the  end  of  the  selection. 
It  is  interesting  also  to  observe  how  later  poets 
reveal  a  similar  attitude  toward  nature,  with- 
out the  organ  roll  of  Milton's  melody,  but  with 
smaller  harmonies  that  are'  more  easily  caught 
and  seem  nearer  to  human  life,  and  therefore 
they  are  more  limited,  more  personal,  and  more 
lovable,  perhaps,  but  less  inspiring  and.  there- 
fore less  dynamic. 

Flowers  laugh  before  thee  on  their  beds  ; 

And  fragrance  in  thy  footing  treads  ; 

Thou  dost  preserve  the  stars  from  wrong  ; 

And  the  most  ancient  heavens,  through  thee,  are  fresh 

And  strong. 

(Wordsworth,  Ode  to  Duty.) 

In  the  selections  cited  from  other  poets  there  is 
less   lyric    swing,   despite   their   quicker   move- 


Epic  Source  of  the  Lyrics     347 

ment  and  less  stately  key ;  for  there  is  a  momen- 
tum in  Milton's  lines  that  aids  the  lyric  force. 
The  passages  that  follow  more  nearly  approach 
the  majesty  of  Milton  but  have  not  the  lyric 
freedom  of  the  master's   hand. 

Hast  thou  a  charm  to  stay  the  morning-star 
In  his  steep  course?    So  long  he  seems  to  pause 
On  thy  bald,  awful  head,  O  sovran  Blanc  I 
The  Arve,  an  Arveiron  at  thy  base 
Rave  ceaselessly  ;  but  thou,  most  awful  Form, 
Risest  from  forth  thy  silent  sea  of  pines, 
How  silently  I    Around  thee  and  above 
Deep  is  the  air  and  dark,  substantial,  black, 
An  ebon  mass.    Methinks  thou  piercest  it, 
As  with  a  wedge  I    But  when  I  look  again, 
It  is  thy  own  calm  home,  thy  crystal  shrine. 
Thy  habitation  from  eternity  I 

0  dread  and  silent  Mount  I    I  gazed  upon  thee. 
Till  thou,  still  present  to  the  bodily  sense. 

Didst  vanish  from  my  thought :  entranced  in  prayer 

1  worshipped  the  Invisible  alone. 

(Coleridge,  Vale  of  Chamouni.) 

One  may  notice  also  the  Miltonic  spirit  in  these 
lines  from  Byron ;  but  the  expression  is  not  en- 
tirely unhampered,  and  lyric  lightness  is  not 
attained. 

All  heaven  and  earth  are  still — ^though  not  in  sleep, 
But  breathless,  as  we  grow  when  feeling  most ; 
And  silent,  as  we  stand  in  thoughts  too  deep  : — 
All  heaven  and  earth  are  still :  from  the  high  host 


348     The  Epic  of  Paradise  Lost 

Of  stars,  to  the  luU'd  lake  and  mountain-coast, 

All  is  concentred  in  a  life  intense 

Where  not  a  beam,  nor  air,  nor  leaf  is  lost 

But  hath  a  part  of  being,  and  a  sense 

Of  that  which  is  of  all  Creator  and  defence. 

(Childe  Harold,  III,  89.) 

Milton's  lyrical  impulse  may  be  inspired  by 
the  light  of  morning,  suggesting  the  radiance 
of  the  throne  of  God,  by  the  sound  of  waters 
which  are  as  the  voice  of  the  Almighty,  by  the 
lightnings  which  are  his  ministers  of  vengeance, 
by  the  songs  of  birds,  vibrating  in  harmony 
with  celestial  music,  by  the  fresh  verdure  of 
the  new  earth,  watched  over  by  benignant 
forces  of  heaven  from  above  and  imperilled  by 
sinister  forces  of  hell  from  beneath,  by  sympa- 
thy with  the  solicitude  of  divine  messengers, 
or  of  guardian  angels  rejoicing  over  earth's 
beauty  or  sorrowing  over  its  ruin.  His  lyric 
tendency  may  arise  from  nature  love  and  human 
love  blending  in  an  inseparable  experience  and 
borne  upward  toward  divine  love,  until  all  na- 
ture, with  man  and  woman,  join  in  triumphant 
notes  of  praise  to  the  Creator  in  a  Gloria  In 
Excelsis,  or  in  a  Benedicite  Omnia  Opera. 

In  this  range  of  subject,  that  gives  the  source 
of  the  lyric  impulse  to  Milton,  we  notice  the 
tendency   toward   that   which   is   too   high   for 


Epic  Source  of  the  Lyrics     349 

man  to  attain  unto.  In  his  elevation,  there  is 
severity;  he  looms  like  a  snow-clad  Alp.  For 
this  reason  he  is  more  an  inspirer  of  nature 
poets  than  a  popular  poet  of  nature  and  this 
is  because  of  his  epical  cast  of  genius.  This 
epical  uplift  gives  his  type  of  lyric  power.  The 
tendency,  therefore,  is  not  to  remain  personal 
but  to  pass  toward  the  universal;  not  self  but 
the  larger  consciousness  of  humanity  is  the 
theme,  and  not  man  but  the  manifestation  of 
the  divine.  In  the  upward  lilt  of  his  lyric 
there  is  always  a  tendency  toward  the  elevated 
style,  even  when  not  dominant;  it  is  not  sought 
but  it  is  inevitable.  For  this  reason,  perhaps, 
with  the  noble  simplicity  of  his  well  regulated 
grand  style,  he  may  approach  the  pastoral, 
without  affectation.  This  tendency  to  grasp 
universal  thought  and  experience,  and  his  mas- 
tery of  noble  expression,  give  him  his  power  in 
the  epic  style  and  cause  him  to  stand  in  our 
minds  as  the  prince  of  writers  of  epic,  in  Eng- 
lish, if  not  in  universal  literature. 

Undoubtedly  Milton  cannot  appeal  to  the 
majority  of  readers  as  an  interpreter  of  nature, 
for  they  miss  in  him  the  ear  to  hear  the  "  sad 
sweet  music  of  humanity,"  or  the  eye  to  see  "  in 
the  meanest  flower  that  blows  thoughts  that  lie 


350    The  Epic  of  Paradise  Lost 

too  deep  for  tears."  He  sends  no  Lucia  to 
bear  us  gently  in  her  arms  to  the  summit  of  his 
earthly  Paradise.  We  must  climb  thither  our- 
selves by  the  stirring  inspiration  of  his  melody. 
There  always  will  be  those  who  will  turn  to 
Wordsworth  and  Tennyson,  there  will  be  others 
who  will  turn  to  Bryant  and  Lanier  for  poetry 
of  nature;  so  also  there  will  be  those  who  will 
prefer  the  gentle  prophets  of  Sargent  to  those 
Titanic  heroes,  the  prophets  of  Michael  An- 
gelo;  but  Milton's  Paradise  Lost  despite  its 
severity  will  always  be  a  Pierian  spring  for 
nature  poets,  because  they  will  read  in  his  lines 
the  "  deciphering  of  the  handwriting  of  God 
in  the  wonders  of  his  creation,"  ^  and  if  we  read 
the  characters  aright  the  message  is  benignant. 

1  Carlo  Dati. 

Note. — All  references  to  scientists  have  been  made 
from  the  standpoint  of  their  mental  attitude  toward 
nature  as  infinite.  It  has  no  importance  for  any  bearing 
that  this  may  have  upon  either  their  method  or  con- 
clusions. It  is  a  question  of  poetical  outlook,  not  of 
scientific  criticism. 


BIBLIOGRAPHY 


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TATIONS OF  SATAN  IN  DIDACTIC,  NARRATIVE, 
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FORE THE  END  OF  THE  SEVENTEENTH  CEN- 
TURY. 

St.  Augustine,  Bishop  of  Hippo. 

Opera  Omnia,  Patrologice  Cursus  Completus, 
Migne,  Paris,  1865. 

The   City   of   God,     Translated   into   English 
by    J.    H.     London,    I6IO.      (Part    II,    Book 
II,  13). 
Lactantius. 

Divinarum  Institutionum,     Libri  VII. 
Book  I,  De  falsa  religione. 
Book  II,  De  origins  erroris. 
Book  III,  De  vita  he  at  a. 
Opera      Omnia,      Patrologice      Cursus      Com-' 
pletus.     Migne,  Paris,  1862. 
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Psychomachia,  ^ 

Hamartigenia. 

351 


352    The  Epic  of  Paradise  Lost 

Opera      Omnia      Patrologice      Cursus      Com- 
pletus,     Migne^  Paris^  1862. 
St.  Avitus. 

De  Spiritalis  Historia   Gestis, 
Liber   Primus,   De   initio   mundi. 
Liber  Secundus,  De  originale  peccato. 
Liber  Tertius,  De  sententia  dei. 
Patrologice   Cursus   Completus,        Migne,   Paris, 
1862. 
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Corpus  Scriptorum  Ecclesiasticorum  Latin- 
arum,  Editum  consilio  et  impensis  Acad- 
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censione  Rudolf,  Peiper,  Volume  23. 

Pragae,    Vindobonae,    Lipsiai,    Tempsy    and 
Freytag,    1891. 

This  work  also  attributed  to  Juvencus. 
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Holy    Scriptures    in    Anglo-Saxon,    with    an 
English  Translation,  Notes,  and  a  Verbal  In- 
dex by  Benjamin  Thorpe.     London,   1832. 
Author  Unknown.     Story  of  Genesis  and  Exo- 
dus,    MS.    not    later   than    1250,    done    from 
Latin   into    English.     Richard   Morris,    Early 
English  Text  Society.     London,   1865. 
Author    Unknown.     Cursor    Mundi,      Northum- 
brian   Poem    of   the    14th    Century.     Richard 
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ViDA,      Marco      Girolamo.      Christiados,      Libri 

Sex.     Early     edition,     1535.     Edidit     Eduar- 

dus    Owen.     Oxon.,    1725.     Complete    Works, 

2  Vols.  London,  1732. 
Sannazaro,   Jacopo.     De  partu   Virginis,     Dedi- 
cated   to    Clement    VII,    Pontifex    Maximus. 

1539. 
Du  Bartas,  Guillaume  de  Salluste,  Sieur  du 

Bartas. 

La  Premiere   Sepmaine.     1579. 

La  Seconde  Sepmaine,      1593. 

His  Divine  Weehes  and  Worhes.     Translated 

by   Josiah   Sylvester.     London,    1633. 
Tasso,     Torquato.      Setti     Giornate     del     Mondo 

Creato.     1594.     Pisa,    1823. 

Jerusalem     Delivered      (Council      in     Hell). 

1574.     Wiffen,   1894. 
Fletcher,  Giles.     Christ's  Victory  and  Triumph 

(1610).     In   Complete   Works.     A.   B.   Gros- 

art,  London,   1868. 
Stafford,   Anthony.     Niobe,   or  Age  of   Teares 

(l6ll).      (Speech    of    Satan    on    banishment 

from  heaven.) 
Peyton,   Thomas.     The   Glasse  of   Time, 

1st  Volume,  London,  1620. 

2d  Volume,  London,   1623. 

Reprinted   by   John   Alden.      (Undated). 
Fletcher,   Phineas.     Locustce    Vel  Pietas  Jesui- 

tica     1627.       (Mr.      Sterling's      Version      in 


-x 


354    The  Epic  of  Paradise  Lost 

Miscellaneous  Poems^  Original  and  Trans- 
lated^ by  Several  Hands,  Dean  Swift,  Parnel, 
Delany,  Brown,  Ward,  Sterling,  Concawen, 
and  others.  Published  by  Mr.  Concawen, 
1724.) 

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Crashaw,  Richard.  The  Suspicion  of  Herod, 
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Adam's  Fall."  Rev.  George  Gilfillan,  Lon- 
don,  1857. 

Denham,  Sir  John.  The  Sophy.  1641.  In 
Poems,  Translations  with  the  Sophy,  Lon- 
don, 1703. 

Beaumont,  Sir  Joseph.  Psyche.  London, 
1648.     2d    Edition    used.     Cambridge,    1702. 

Cowley,  Abraham.  Davideis,  1656.  J.  Ton- 
son,  London,  1710. 

Fletcher,  Joseph.  Perfect  -  Cursed  -  Blessed- 
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CENTURY  TRAGEDY 

Grotius,    Hugo.     Adamus    Exsul.     First    edition. 


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1601.  Reprint  from  fifth  edition  in  Delectus 
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New  York  and  London,  1898. 


II 


The  following  list  is  not  exhaustive.  It  in- 
cludes epics,  tragedies,  historical  and  critical 
works,  theories  of  nature,  and  nature  poems,  that 
have  aided  the  author  of  these  essays  in  forming 
an  estimate  of  the  epic  quality  of  Paradise  Lost, 
and  of  its  influence. 
Addison,   J.     Essays   on   Milton,     Spectator,   No. 


356    The  Epic  of  Paradise  Lost 

267-,    Dec.    SI,    1711-   May   3,    1712.     Lon- 
don, 1869. 

^scHYLUs.  Tragedies,  E.  H.  Plumptre,  1868. 
E.  D.  A.  Morshead,   1901. 

Apollonius  of  Rhodes.  The  Argonautics, 
Fawkes,   1780. 

Aratus,  Astronomy  and  Meteorology.  (278 
B.C.)      C.   Leeson  Prince,   1895. 

Ariosto,  Ludovico.  Orlando  Furioso  (1515). 
Panizzi,  1833-'41.  John  Hoole,  London, 
1799. 

Aristotle.     Poetic. 

Metaphysics,  Ethics,  Rhetoric.     Thomas  Tay- 
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UNIVERSITY   I 

OF  ./ 


INDEX 


Addison,  2,  306. 

^schylus,  18,  21,  61,  65,  233.  327. 

Allegory,  in  epic  and  tragedy,  77-80;  116,  118-119,  121. 

Andreini,  188,  189,  210;  UAdamo,  U,  36,  50,  122, 
139,  190,  191;  summary,  191-206;  temptation, 
197-201 ;  Eve,  196-205,  206-208 ;  necessity  of 
epic  treatment  of  theme,  209-210;  215,  263,  268, 
280. 

Areopagitica,  89;  quoted,  93;  100,  310. 

Aristotle,  13;  quoted,  53-54;  60,  65,  69,  129,  312. 

Aubrey,  125,  250. 

B 

Baudius,  144. 

Beaumont,   Sir  Joseph,   240;    Psyche,   quoted,  speech 

of  Satan,  241-242. 
Beda,  133. 

Beethoven,  122,  320,  334. 
Bible,  38,  88,  104,  127,  132,  133,  338. 
Bodmer,  306. 

Boileau,  54,  76;  quoted,  77-78;   306. 
Bossu,  13;  quoted,  53;  69. 
Brah^,  310. 
Breitinger,  306. 
Browning,  1. 
Bryant,  350. 
Bunyan,  79. 
Byron,  326,  331,  338;  quoted,  332,  339,  340,  347-348. 


Caedmon,  Genesis,  133-140,  142.  . 
Casaubon,  144. 

24  369 


370  Index 


Cervantes,  79. 

Chateaubriand,  306. 

Chaucer,  304. 

Christ's    triumph,  15,  16,  17,  87-95,  96-98,  104,  254- 

256. 
Cicero,  Dream  of  Scipio,  312. 
Cid,  71. 
Coleridge,  quoted,  107;  303,  304,  326;  quoted,  343,  345, 

347. 
Comus,  138. 

Copernicus,  310,  313,  321. 
Cowley,    A.,    242,    246;     Davideis,    quoted,    243-245; 

Satan,  heaven,  angels;   comparison  with  Milton. 
Cowper,  304. 
Crashaw,  238.^ 
Cursor  Alundi,  140. 
Cyprianus,  130. 


Dante,  261,  312,  315-317,  320,  350. 

Darwin,  321. 

Dati,  Carlo,  350. 

Denham,  Sir  John,  238;  Sophy,  239. 

Diodati,  109. 

Divorce  pamphlets,  295. 

Dryden,  quoted,  2,  55;  58,  60;  quoted,  69;  251,  319. 

Du  Bartas,  141-142;  149,  310. 

E 

Epic,  and  tragedy,  4-7;  9,  10-11;  13,  15-^16;  18-23; 
24-26;  method,  32-34;  45-50;  51-52;  98,  105-106; 
117-120;  125-127;  163,  252-253;  background,  9, 
21,  23,  52,  84-85;  88,  120,  164,  186-187;  classic 
and  Christian,  52,  70-81;  sad  ending,  16,  68-71; 
123;  happy  ending,  70-73  ;  future  of  epic,  77, 
81-82;  epic  scenes,  235-249;  epic  strains,  124- 
125;  epical  tendency  in  Shakespeare,  66-68; 
epic  trend,  114-116. 

Epistle  VIL  quoted,  99. 

Epitaphium  Damonis,  quoted,  109-110;  251. 

Euripides,  Medea,  22;  61;  Alcestis,  Helen,  Madness  of 
Herakles,  Medea,  62;  Alcestis  quoted,  71;  166,  211, 
238,  294,  327. 


Index  371 


Everyman,  26,  63-65. 

Evil,  origin  in  Lucifer,  23,  28,  36-37;  origin,  48-49;  50, 
52,  127;  conflict  with  God,  23,  38-40;  45,  91,  92, 
119,  167-168;  170-171;  178,  207,  235,  253-256; 
263-279. 


Fiske,  Mrs.,  as  Becky  Sharp,  44. 

Fletcher,    Giles,    Christ's    Victory  and   Triumph,    248. 

Fletcher,  Phineas,  Apollyonists,  246-247;  Satan. 
Locustae,  248. 

Folk-lore,  29,  30,  35. 

Freewill,  dignity  of,  90-98;  danger  of,  100-103;  pro- 
blem of,  258,  262,  284. 


Galileo,  310,  313,  321. 

Goethe,  26,  30,  31,  104,  149,  335. 

Good,  force  of,  origin  in  God,  23,  81-82 ;  89,  90,  258-259 ; 
260-261;  modern  conception  of,  75-76;  divine 
machinery,  47-49  -  53,  61-65 ;  66,  62,  78-79. 

Gosse,  211. 

Gottsched,  306. 

Gray,  304,  306. 

Grotius,  10,  50,  139,  144,  145,  146,  147;  Adamus  Exsul, 
147-157;  Satan,  149-151;  Eve,  149-156; 161-164 
temptation,  149-151;  artistic  defects,  159-164 
167,  168,  192,  214,  257,  263,  278,  280. 

H 

.  Handel,  122. 
Hardy,  337. 

Hauptmann,  Versunkene  Glockey  26,  28. 
Hawthorne,  138,  315. 
Hayley,  190,  191,  204,  206. 
Hervey,  306. 
Homer,  13,  48,  49,  56,  70,  75,  76,  238,  309,  312,   315- 

316. 
Horace  quoted,  54. 


Ibsen,  Peer  Gynt,  31,  63. 

IdeaUty,  poet's,  300,  301,  302,  337. 


372  Index 


Ideality,  Milton's,  99,   116,  99-104,  298-299. 
II  Penseroso,  302. 


Johnst)n,  S.,  146,  190. 
Juvencus,  130. 


Kant  quoted,  319. 
Keats,  Lamia,  197. 
Kepler,  313,  321. 


Lactantius,  38. 

U Allegro,  302. 

Lamotte-Houdart,  305. 

Lancetta,  9;  quoted,  117-118;  125-126. 

Lanier,  350. 

Lauder,  3,  14,  146,  147. 

Leonardo  da  Vinci,  335. 

Lessing,  58,  60,  67;   Dramaturgie  quoted,  59. 

Letourneur,  305. 

Lyric  strains  in  Paradise  Lost,  7,  8,  11,  300-351;  source 
of,  307,  317,  321,  325-326;  328,  329,  348 ;  movement 
of,  331-333;  three  stages,  333-335;  freedom  of, 
331;  checking  of,  335-336;  range  of,  336;  epic 
uplift,  301-302,  319,  321,  333,  349,  350;  influence 
of,  in  France  and  Germany,  302-307 ;  influence  of, 
in  England   307-350. 

M 

Macpherson,  306. 

Man's  fall,  12,  105,  119,  120,  127-129;   140 ;  in  Paradise 

Lost,    Adam,    253-256;    288-292;    295-298;     Eve, 

276-278;     question   of  unfairness,    281-283;   292- 

295;   difficulty  in  plot,  282. 
Marino,    238-240;    Sospetto  d'Herode,    quoted,   speech 

of  Satan,  239-240. 
Marlowe,   18;    Dr.  Faustus,  26,  31;    Tamburlaine,  58, 

149,  238. 
Mather,  Cotton,  59. 


Index  373 


Medici,  Lorenzo  de',  1S9. 

Michael  Angelo,  320,  334,  350. 

Mickle,  190. 

Milton,  1-2,  4,  5,  6,  11,  13,  14,  41,  73,  75,  80,  81,  82, 
83,  84,  85,  86,  87,  89,  90,  108,  110,  111,  116,  118, 
122,  123,  124,  126,  127,  128,  129,  143,  191,  195, 
235,  237,  242,  243;  quoted,  245,  246,  247,  249,  250, 
251,  253,  256,  258,  260,  299;  in  romantic  move- 
ment, 302-307;  English  view  of,  303-304;  307; 
334,  335-336;  337,  350. 

Miracle  and  Morality  plays,  63. 

Motley,  211. 

N 

Nature,    Milton's    conception    of,    307-311;    321-322; 

scheme  of  creation,   89-91;    Ptolemaic,   308-311, 

312,   313,   314;    reasons  for  Ptolemaic,   312,   313; 

against,  313-315;  phases    of,    322-325;    336-348; 

vastness    of,  325-331;  sentiment  for,  337 ;   Milton 

as  interpreter  of,  349. 
Newton,  309. 


Ovid,  166,  337. 


Paradise  Lost,  quoted,  37,  38,  39,  40,  42-43,  100-101, 
103,  104,  114,  139,  248-249,  267,  268,  272,  273, 
275-276,  285,  287,  289,  290,  292,  295,  296,  297, 
308,  309,  324,  325,  327,  328,  329,  330,  339,  340, 
341,  343,  344,  345-346;  radiates  from  epic  notion, 
3,  4,  5,  6,  10,  13,  33,  34,  35-36,  43,  45-46,  56,  81- 
82,  86,  99,  102,  103,  106,  107,  108,  116,  120,  121, 
124,  128,  130,  255-256;  impossible  material  for 
poetry,  .335,  336.j   •./ 

Parsifal,  121,  1^2.' 

Peyton,  Thomas,  The  Glasse  of  Time,  242. 

Philosophy  and  art,  as  basis  of,  24,  34-36;  73-80, 
127-130;  trend  of  modern  thought,  65,  74,  78-79, 
262   311. 

Plato,  88,  127,  312,  320. 

Poemata  Miltoni  Manuscripta,  etc.,  110. 

Politian,  189. 


374  Index 


Powell,  Mary,  292. 

Preternatural  in  epic  and  tragedy,  16,  58,  59. 
Prudentius,    130-131;    Dittochceon^  Haynartigenia,  Psy- 
chomachia,  240. 

R 

Reason  for   Church  Government,    etc.,    89;   preface   to 

second  part  quoted,  108. 
Rousseau,  303. 


St.  Augustine,  38,  88,  127,  133,  134,  149,  214;   City  of 

God,  quoted,  93-94. 
St.  Avitus,  De  MosaiccB  HistoricB  Gestis,  etc.,  131-133; 

temptation  scene. 
St.  Jerome,  38. 
St.  Pierre,  303. 

Sannazaro,  De  Partu  Virginis,  142. 
Sargent,  350. 
Scaliger,  144. 
Schubert,  334. 
Seneca,  166,  238. 
Shakespeare,    9,    18,    20,    21;   Macbeth,   Hamlet,   Lear, 

Othello,  23,  26,  27,  28,  32,  56,  57,  58,  59,  67,  68. 

79,  138,  238,  258,  294,  304,  306,  315,  320,  335,  338. 
Shelley,  1,  102,  261,  307,  326,  334;  quoted,  332,  333. 
Siegfried,  120. 
Skinner,  86,  95. 
Sophocles,  166,  211. 
Spencer,  321. 
Spenser,  79,  304. 
Sterling,  248. 

Story  of  Genesis  and  Exodus,  140. 
Strada,  Famianus,  111. 
Strafford,  Niobe,  242. 
Swinburne,  303,  307. 


Tannhduser,  120. 

Tasso,  quoted,  54;  56,  76,  87,  149,  203;  Sette  Giornate 
del  Hondo  Creato,  140-141,  216,  235;  Jerusalem 
Delivered,  235-238;   Satan  and  force  of  evil,  339. 

Tennyson,  350. 


Index  375 


Thackeray,  44. 

Thomson,  306. 

Todd,  Henry  John,  191. 

Tonson,  251. 

Tragedy,  and  epic,  10,  17,  18,  20,  23,  24,  25;  restriction 
of  scope  of,  26-32;  43,  48,  55-57,  61. 

Tragedy  on  Fall  of  Man,  Milton's  drafts  for,  6,  10,  46, 
47,  108;  Milton's  summary  of,  111-114;  grounds 
for  dissatisfaction,  105-106;  114-124. 

Treatise  on  Christian  Doctrine,  5,  6,  7,  10,  12,  35,  83- 
107;  theory  of  evil,  85;  connection  with  Paradise 
Lost,  87-88,  138,  216,  255,  256,  260,  311;  quoted, 
317;  318, 

Tyndall,  321. 


Van  Noppen,  211,  212,  214,  217,  218. 

Vida,  Christias,  142. 

Virgil,  ^neid,  13,  34,  49,  56,  70,  75,  76,  87,  104,  106, 
238,  312,  315. 

Voltaire,  58,  59,  190,  191 

Vondel,  3,  8,  38,  165-167;  Adam  in  Ballingschap,  10 
33,  40,  50,  114,  139,  144;  summary,  167-181 
characterisation  of  Satan,  called  Lucifer,  167-168 
171-173;  178,  182,  184-186;  of  Eve,  168,  170, 
173-180 ;182-184;  185;  temptation  scene,  174-177 
Lucifer,  216-229;  need  of  epic  form,  233-234 
quoted,  217,  218,  219,  220,  225-226,  227,  228 
motive  for  rebellion,  217;  campaign,  219-223 
opposition,  225;  expulsion,  226-227;  revenge  on 
Adam,  228;  other  references  to  Vondel,  210,  211, 
214,  257,  261,  263,  268,  277,  280,  287. 

W 

Warton,  190. 
Wharton,  Edith,  44. 
Whitman,  303. 
Wilham  the  Silent,  211,  223. 

Wordsworth,  1,  303,  304,  320,  326,  333,  335,  350; 
quoted,  102,  342,  343,  344,  346. 


Young.  304,  306. 


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